“What if your truck gets damaged and you can’t make it home? What if you end up in another ditch?” Madeline said. Her voice became whiny now.
“There’s a few repair shops on the way back,” John said with confidence. The problem was that the repair shops were few and far between.
“There’s not going to be one open on a Saturday night. Maybe we should just forget it.”
“No. I’ll make it back in time, Madeline. Promise.”
“Don’t promise. Just go home and show up here in the morning.”
“I will.”
“Fine. Goodbye.”
John hung up the cell phone and tossed it onto the dashboard. He shook his head in disbelief.
“Do I even want to know what just happened?” Captain said as he continued to scroll through atmospheric maps on his laptop.
“I swear, she always starts getting weird when Dr. Ferganut’s name comes up.”
“Maybe she thinks you’re turning into a hermit.”
John stared straight ahead at the highway and a water mirage in the distance. The road was long, straight, and almost mesmerizing on these drives because of the flatness of the terrain. It was a good area for observing distant storms but at night these stretches could put the best of drivers asleep.
* * *
The sky continued to fill in with slanted, towering, gray, blue, and black clouds which gave it a painted look. Yet it was not the look of the sky that concerned John, but rather a nagging feeling that he needed to stop by Professor Ferganut’s house first before taking a shot at the developing storms with his sensor equipment. The more he ignored the urge, the worse it became. It finally reached the point where he pulled over to the side of a county road to think things over.
“You okay?” Captain said without looking up from his laptop. “You’re hesitating again. That’s not like you.”
“Let me see the road atlas again. I think we need to stop by the Professor’s house first. It’s just up the road another mile and over that hill.”
Captain handed him the atlas and looked him in the eye. “You’re not going to write that paper now are you?”
“No. But I figure we could introduce ourselves.”
Captain turned the laptop screen toward John. “Look at this velocity couplet on radar. It’s fifteen miles in the opposite direction. By the time you get done talking to him this one will be out of range.”
John grimaced and looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. The urge to drive up the highway to visit the Professor did not relent. He checked the atlas and mapped out an attack route. “Something tells me he is in danger.”
He tossed the atlas into the backseat and stepped on the accelerator. Up the highway and over the hill like a car on a rollercoaster John drove and nearly at the same speed as an amusement park ride. Captain clutched his laptop, held his fountain drink tight, and gritted his teeth.
The Professor’s house was a one-story olive-green rambler set back from the highway behind a row of pine trees. The wind stirred the pines as John drove down the service road that ran parallel to the highway. When he reached the driveway, he stopped, jumped out, and knew immediately something was wrong. High in the sky, black threadlike streamers streaked down around the neighborhood. The streamers were nearly invisible until John saw one of them drift by just out of his reach. He searched the ground for rocket parts but found nothing.
He yelled back to Captain. “Hey, check these out. Still think I’m crazy for stopping?”
“What are those?” Captain asked.
“Madeline and I are on the trail of someone named Dr. Amalynth. The guy’s already tried to take out my pastor, a counselor, and a doctor.”
“And Rebekkah?”
John nodded.
“I’m confused. Is this drive about Rebekkah?”
“No. Yes. I mean no. A few weeks ago I went back to my old church. The power went out in the middle of the service. So I went downstairs to fix it. And I took a jolt off the breaker box. Lightning hit the steeple and travelled down to the box.”
Captain motioned toward John and held out a hand. “You feeling okay? Any memory loss? Headaches? Nerve problems?”
John stepped back and surveyed the drifting streamers. Without further hesitation he bolted up to the Professor’s front door. He pounded on the door with his fist and yelled, “Hey, Professor! You home?” Captain ambled out of the truck and soon joined him. Together they waited on the doorstep.
The door opened with a creak and a bewildered man peered out. He looked to be in his fifties with a medium frame. He had a high receding hairline with chestnut-brown hair and a gray-and-chestnut-brown mustache and beard. He wore a tan tee shirt and blue jeans with a pair of round glasses. He glanced at the doorbell button next to the door frame. “Did my doorbell stop working?”
“Sorry about that. Dr. Ferganut, we think you should evacuate your house,” John said, sounding like he was out of breath.
Dr. Ferganut’s eyes darted back and forth. “Why’s that?”
John pointed to the streamers reaching down from the clouds. The wind blew them about as if they were tentacles hanging down from a jellyfish. “Someone’s turned your neighborhood into a field full of lightning rods.”
Dr. Ferganut stepped out onto the lawn and grasped one of the streamers. He gave it a tug as if it would ring a bell but instead the thread broke off in his hand. He lifted up his glasses and examined it closely as it draped across his fingertips. “Curious. What is this?”
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“It’s conductive thread. I think it’s made of carbon nanotubes. We need to get out of here and get you to someplace safe,” John said.
Dr. Ferganut flicked the thread off of his fingers. “Where is this coming from?”
“A rocket. Maybe a drone.”
“But who would be after me? I can’t think of any new enemies I’ve made. At least not lately. Are you sure this isn’t from an insect? Or maybe some kind of spider web?”
“No. I tested it before. Here. There’s no time.” John motioned for them all to head back to the truck. Dr. Ferganut hobbled after them but then walked around to the back of the truck to study the rocket launcher.
“Ever heard of Dr. Amalynth?” John said.
Dr. Ferganut pondered the name for a moment. “What does he look like?”
“Short black hair. Glasses. Wears suits all the time. Has an accent.”
Dr. Ferganut continued to circle the launcher with a brooding methodical gait. “He was a student of mine for a summer. Just an internship. Smart kid. He had an incredible long term memory that went down to the tiniest detail. It was good for electronics but not so good for human relations. He didn’t want to stick around long.”
“But did you ever have a falling out?”
“Not that I can think of. Except the time I brought up studying the Bible. He left about a week later.”
“How about a man named Dr. Minton?”
Dr. Ferganut looked up. His facial expression went from mild amusement to guarded concern in an instant.
“You know him?” John said.
“I know of him. I’m not sure if I really ever knew the man. Say, what’s with the rockets back here?” Dr. Ferganut pointed to the back of the truck.
“We’re storm researchers,” John said. He gave Dr. Ferganut a sheepish grin. “We launch rockets full of your sensors into storm clouds.”
“Really?” Dr. Ferganut beamed. “I didn’t think anybody was doing much with my tech. Are you getting good data?”
“Is he getting good data,” Captain said in jest. He motioned back to John with his thumb. “They don’t call him Data Guy for nothing.”
“I suppose we should introduce ourselves,” John said. He extended a hand. “I’m John Sayers and this here is Captain Avalanche.”
Dr. Ferganut shook his hand but gave them both a funny look.
John watched another streamer drift by as more thunder rumbled. “Let’s
keep moving.”
“Are you heading out on a chase?” Dr. Ferganut asked as he still stood behind the rocket launcher.
“We were hoping to, if you don’t mind.”
Dr. Ferganut motioned toward the house. “Let me lock up first.”
John and Captain climbed into the front seats of the truck. Dr. Ferganut secured his house and then climbed into the back seat but favored his hip as if it was in pain. Dr. Ferganut lifted up the cable that ran from John’s laptop computer in the front and out through the back window of the truck.
“That’s for the launcher. Wait until you see the tracking software,” John said.
“Did you come up with that on your own?” Dr. Ferganut said.
“In my spare time. It took a long time to perfect it. Here are some of the sensors I used.” John held out a clear plastic box full of Ferganut sensors. John switched his laptop screen to an animated display of the data he collected from the Wick tornado earlier that summer.
“Here’s a run prior to the big Wick storm in South Dakota earlier this year. In some of our other tests we confirmed your hypothesis. About being able to predict changes in storm direction before they actually occur.”
Dr. Ferganut leaned forward in fascination and sat mesmerized by the software replay of the storm. He then looked out the back window. “Have you got a target in mind for today?”
Captain picked up his laptop and pointed to the southwest. “About twenty miles from here. There’s a nice velocity couplet forming.”
Dr. Ferganut gave them a confident smile. “Well then, gentlemen, what are we waiting for?”
Chapter Fourteen
John and Captain set up the rocket launcher on a dirt road fifteen miles southwest of Valentine. They were on the edge of the Sand Hills, an area in central Nebraska that had few trees, fewer towns, and gave the appearance of a desert frozen in time. From above, it looked like the land had been raked into streaks with lakes scattered in between the hills. The sand dunes were stabilized and during a good wind only the prairie grass went into motion. The clouds above played havoc with the already shadow-covered landscape and any thunder John heard seemed muffled as the sound waves travelled between the hills.
The inflow winds here gusted to thirty miles an hour at times and John knew the risks of going forward increased by the minute. Nevertheless, John raced back to the truck and readied the launch software while an eager Dr. Ferganut watched over his shoulder. Captain stood outside and took pictures of the incoming storm with his camera and tripod setup.
“3…2…1…” John twisted the arming key and smashed the red launch button with his hand. He repeated the process every thirty seconds and made adjustments based on the wind. The target was a ragged wall cloud with decent inflow but an expanding hail shaft nearby. Two of the rockets veered off course during their ascent and ejected the sensors into the rear flank downdraft. The other rockets hit their mark and a whirlpool of green sensor dots on John’s laptop screen gave everyone in the truck an emotional lift.
Beneath the wall cloud, dust curled up and gradually a narrow light-gray rope funnel condensed. Although the storm looked promising on radar, in the data John could see signs the tornado would probably only last fifteen minutes. He pointed to the laptop screen but began to doubt his planning abilities.
“Fifteen minutes to dissipation,” he said with an undercurrent of melancholy.
“You’re sure of this?” Dr. Ferganut said.
“Reasonably.”
The sky above took on shades of turquoise and jade while the tornado steadily widened. Captain continued to snap images and pointed at the base of the tornado. “Check out the winds down there,” he yelled.
John shifted his attention back and forth between the laptop data, radar images, velocity images, and the sky. The base expanded in a matter of minutes to become twice the size of the main column.
The central portion of the funnel soon expanded and took on a pale tan color. Both parts of the tornado became diffuse with time and it took on a ghostlike appearance. John could not tell if there were multiple suction vortices but when he saw a piece of bright white debris whip around the outer edge he knew the winds were in fact quite violent. Like a whirling brown brush, the base of the twister wiped the land clean. The top third of it seemed to bend but was so diffuse that it looked like it was standing still.
John desperately wanted to fire more rockets into the storm but he knew the violence of the winds could decimate anything he launched into it. The three of them stared on in childlike wonder until, like clockwork, at the fifteen minute mark the twister began to rope out.
“Remarkable,” Dr. Ferganut said. “Any way I can get a copy of that data set?”
“Sure thing.” Inside, John’s mood rose dramatically despite nagging thoughts of what they were going to come back to at the Professor’s house.
“I have to ask. Is this why you were really in my neighborhood?”
“Yes and no. I’ve been wanting to write a paper about you. And your work.”
“About me?” Dr. Ferganut was taken aback.
“Why? Has someone else done it already?”
“Hardly. I’m…flattered.”
Captain picked up his camera and tripod and returned to the truck. John got out and together they loaded the rocket launcher back into the bed of the truck.
“How’d we do?” Captain said as a light rain began to fall. A bolt of lightning punched at a nearby field and caught their attention.
“Two-for-four on the rockets. Now if I can get him to agree to an interview we’ll be three-for-five.”
Captain feigned concern. He lowered his voice. “I wonder if he thinks we’re kidnapping him. Good thing I didn’t tell him they also call you Duct Tape Guy.”
* * *
John debated whether to press on to another target or to return Dr. Ferganut back to his house. As much as he wanted to make the most of every moment, John knew if he was going to have a shot at writing a paper in the fall about the man he would have to keep the drama to a minimum from here on out. He turned to look at Captain’s laptop and then drove back toward Highway 83. “What do you think?”
“There’s another cell that looks pretty intense. But it’s about forty-five miles southwest of here and moving east at twenty,” Captain replied as he took a sip off his fountain drink.
John pretended to give it some thought. “Maybe we should head back and make sure nothing happened to the Professor’s house.” He glanced at Dr. Ferganut in the rearview mirror.
“Do you have more rockets? I’m game for another target,” Dr. Ferganut replied with childlike enthusiasm. “I don’t get out on chases much anymore. If you don’t mind.”
John and Captain gave each other a smile until an object clinked into the bed of the truck.
“What was that?” Captain said as he turned back to look.
Dr. Ferganut spun around to look and John tried to assess the situation by using his rearview mirror. From what John had seen it was possible it was hail, but unlikely given their location. Then he noticed something sticking up from the bed of the truck.
John pulled over to the shoulder of the road. He ran back to look in the bed of the truck. His heart began to race as he reached over and withdrew a small metal canister with a nearly invisible piece of black thread attached to it. He whipped it as far as he could behind him as if it was a live grenade and drove off.
The wind and the rain picked up again. As he drove away he kept a sharp eye on the canister which now rolled around on the road. In horror he watched as a gust of wind pushed it across the highway and toward a combination convenience store and gas station. He stepped on the accelerator.
“What was that?” Captain said as he looked into the passenger side rearview mirror.
“You don’t want to know,” John said as a bolt of lightning hit the ground a mile in front of them. A few seconds later another bolt crashed to the earth and hit one of the gas pumps at the station. The gas pump e
xploded into a ball of flame and was followed by multiple other explosions.
“I want to know,” Dr. Ferganut said. “Who’s after you? Or…us?”
“It’s Amalynth,” John said. “Why would he be after you? Is there any connection with this…Dr. Minton?”
Dr. Ferganut leaned back in his seat and let out a sigh. He looked out the side window and then back at the black cloud of smoke as it poured out of the gas station. He turned around. “I suppose now would be a good time to tell you about him. We used to be friends. A long time ago. We even went to school together. But then he changed. It’s like he saw me as a rival in everything we did. He turned any friendly competition we had into a practical deathmatch.” Dr. Ferganut’s voice became quiet and somber. “Then there was the night he tried to burn down the forest around me.”
John watched another canister drop onto the road in front of them. “We gotta get out of here.” He checked all the mirrors and looked in every direction he could. “I can’t figure out where these things are coming from. Usually there’s a smoke trajectory.”
“If you can get us back to my house, I can send up some wireflies to figure it out,” Dr. Ferganut said.
“Wireflies?” Captain said.
“My dragonflies with electric eyes.”
John slowed down and pulled over. It took a few minutes but eventually a lightning bolt crunched into the road where the last canister hit. Then his cell phone rang out. Like clockwork, it was Madeline.
“Not now,” John said. He picked up the phone against his better judgment and turned on the speaker phone option. “Yes?”
“Am I an office assistant now?” She said in a playful manner.
“No. We’re just playing dodge bolt on the freeway right now.”
“What? Where are you?”
“About ten miles south of Valentine. We’re trying to get the Professor home. Assuming we all don’t get killed first.” He stepped on the accelerator and continued north up the highway.
“He’s with you? In the truck?”
“Yes.”
The Hammer of Amalynth Page 7