Return to Black Bear Mountain

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Do you think it could have been Drawes?” asked Frank.

  “Drawes,” Dr. K spat. “I wouldn’t put it past him. Whoever it was, they were turning the place upside down looking for something. I hate to think of all the damage they did to my research, but all the equipment is insured. The garnets sure aren’t, though.” He looked at the baggie with the demantoids. “Aleksei showed me where he’d hidden the final stash. The only thing I could think to do was go to the cabin and get them before the burglar could. I’d planned to get the garnets, sleep at the cabin, and get out early the next morning, only…” He paused, giving a pained look at his bad leg.

  “Only…?” I prompted.

  “Only the trapdoor in the fireplace jammed and I couldn’t get it back open from the inside. I’d trapped myself in Aleksei’s secret bunker.”

  “A bunker with only one other exit,” Frank said.

  “Aleksei had stocked the cave with food, but all the water jugs had frozen and burst over the winter while he was in prison. It had never occurred to me to replace them. I never figured I’d need a secret hideout. I only had enough water on me to ration for a few days, and then…” He gave a little shudder.

  “You jumped.”

  “It was the same parachute Aleksei used to bail out when he crashed his plane here to fake his death in the 1980s. I didn’t even know if it still worked,” Max said, cringing. “He kept it in the cave as a backup escape plan if the authorities ever cornered him. He figured he could take out the piton he’d put in the entrance so no one could climb down after him, then take a flying leap to safety. I told him it was a ridiculous plan. He just gave me that wild smile and reminded me that it had been a ridiculous plan involving a parachute that had kept him out of prison for three decades.”

  “I like the way the big guy thinks,” I said, earning dubious looks from Frank and Max, who shook his head and continued.

  “I would have just used the rope to climb down—that would have been dangerous enough as it was—but the darn thing had rotted away. I put it off for as long as I could until my water ran out. Without water, well, I didn’t know what my odds were of surviving a low-altitude BASE jump with a repacked, vintage parachute, but I figured they were at least better than zero. So I strapped the thing on, got a running start, and…” Dr. K pantomimed leaping off the cliff with his hand. “It’s a miracle I survived. I did bang up my bad leg something fierce when I hit that tree, though.”

  Max rapped his knuckles gently against the boulder. “I’ve been hiding out here for a few days, trying to nurse myself back to health so I could make the hike out. It’s not the ritziest hospital room, but I’ve got good cover, easy access to the creek to boil fresh water, and wild edible plants and medicines all around me.”

  “Good job staying positive, Dr. K,” Frank complimented him. We both knew from our wilderness training that keeping your spirits up was one of the most important things you could do in a survival situation. They didn’t cover this in wilderness boot camp, but one of the other most important things is not getting caught by a skunky-smelling, gun-wielding gem thief.

  “If the trapdoor into Aleksei’s bunker jammed behind you, maybe whoever followed us into the cave got stuck as well,” I said hopefully.

  “You didn’t see who it was either, huh?” Max asked.

  Frank and I shook our heads.

  “You’re the only one who’s had a visual on the suspect,” said Frank.

  “I’m not the only one, actually. I don’t think it will do much good because the image is barely more than a shadow, but one of the trail cams I set up to monitor mountain lions picked up something over near Aleksei’s old crash site. This is from a week before I saw my research station getting ransacked.” Dr. K rummaged through his pack as he spoke. “At first I thought it was just a hiker, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

  Frank and I hunched down over his shoulders as he pulled out a digital viewer and started fast-forwarding through clips of wildlife passing by a fallen log in the woods.

  “I keep trail cameras strapped to trees in cougar-friendly habitats throughout the mountain range. Every time an animal passes within the field of the camera’s motion sensors, it takes a short video clip. I’d been out in the field for over a week collecting the memory cards. Didn’t get any mountain lion footage this time, but I did get this—”

  Three more clips of a coyote, a porcupine, and a raccoon flew across the little screen in fast-forward before he hit the play button. The screen was static for a moment, and then a creature’s silhouette passed by through the woods just at the edge of the frame. The clip barely lasted a second, and it was impossible to make out any detail, but one thing was certain: this creature walked on two feet.

  “So either that’s Bigfoot, or you may have caught a shot of the perp,” I said. “Can you pause and zoom in?”

  It didn’t do much good. The person was at the very edge of the motion sensor’s range, with their back to the camera and obscured by trees. The way they were positioned, it was hard to even get a sense of scale to know how tall they were. It didn’t help that the camera captured the shot in fading evening light. The only real detail you could make out was the faint pattern of camouflage on their clothing.

  “The camo could point to the description we received for John Smith,” Frank suggested. “Lots of people wear camouflage in the woods, though.”

  “And it could just be a hiker like Dr. K first thought,” I said, frustrated at what looked like another dead end. “Can you play it again?”

  “The controls on this aren’t very precise, so it may take me a second to get back to the right spot,” Max said, hitting rewind.

  The blurry suspect blurred by in reverse and out of frame. There was a short blip of blank screen before the raccoon sped backward toward the camera, appeared to stop for a few frames to sniff the lens, then zipped out of the picture.

  “Oops, went too far,” Dr. K said, hitting the play button. “I get a lot of raccoon shots. They’re about as ubiquitous as mountain lions are rare. That curious little guy stopped by just a minute or two before the person in camo. The video will skip right ahead once it passes.”

  The raccoon ambled toward the lens in regular speed, gave it a few sniffs, then moseyed off along the trail.

  And that’s when Frank’s and my mouths dropped open. Sure, raccoons may be a dime a dozen in the woods, but raccoons with perfectly round bald patches on their read ends? They tend to be a whole lot rarer.

  12 SHOWDOWN AT HIGH RACCOON

  FRANK

  HEY, I KNOW THAT RACCOON!” Dr. Kroopnik blurted.

  “Ricky,” Joe snarled.

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence Ken and Cherry Fritwell’s pet raccoon is running around Black Bear Mountain,” I said.

  “And I don’t think that little jerky thief is flying solo, either,” Joe surmised. “The only reason that trash panda would show up all the way out here is if someone brought him.”

  Max looked flabbergasted. “You think Ken and Cherry have something do with this? But I’ve known them for years.”

  “They aren’t the only ones cozy with that raccoon. Cherry told us that it was the lodge that rescued him first. They said Ricky still goes out there for playdates with Dan and—”

  “Steven,” Dr. K grunted. “I haven’t trusted that guy since he helped Casey’s no-good sister try to steal Aleksei’s garnets the first time.”

  “Steven’s supposed to be out of town, but that could just be a convenient alibi to give him cover,” I speculated.

  “Speaking of alibis, we don’t have any proof that Dan was really booked by other guests and didn’t just ditch us so he could follow us to the garnets,” said Joe.

  “With his guide skills, he could have tracked us easily enough,” I said. “He also had the opportunity to bear-bait our pack with honey and set us up to be smashed by that falling tree on the ATV ride in.”

  Max looked at us wide-eyed. “Sounds like your trip here has be
en almost as calamitous as mine.”

  “Someone is dead set on getting those garnets for themselves. It could be any of the people on our suspect list, or all of them, for all we know,” Joe said.

  “There could be someone else at the lodge or another local with a connection to Ricky that we don’t know about too,” I pointed out. “The best way to find out is to start asking.”

  “And the best way to do that is to get back to civilization and switch from survival mode to interrogation mode.” Joe looked down at Max. “What do you think, Doc? Can you walk out of here?”

  “I don’t think I’d make it more than a couple miles on this bum leg, and if someone is tracking us, it’s going to be easy to catch up to me hobbling down the mountain. No, I don’t think I can walk all the way out.” Dr. K’s words sounded bleak, but the grin on his lips didn’t match what he’d just said. “But I can fly.”

  “Hate to break it to you, Doc,” Joe said. “The chopper’s out of commission. Someone tore open the control panel and smashed the radio.”

  “They must have destroyed the radio after I left, but they’re not the ones who tampered with the controls,” he said, still grinning. “When I realized someone was following me, I decided to make the helicopter my last resort, in case I needed an escape. So I made it look like the helicopter was out of commission so no one could destroy it and take away my chance of safety. It will only take me a few minutes to put the fuse back in and reconnect the wires.”

  “Quick thinking, Dr. K!”

  “Thanks, Frank. If I hadn’t gotten trapped in the cave under Aleksei’s cabin, I would have doubled back and flown to town with the garnets. That plan went out the window when I went out the cave door and busted my leg. I don’t think I can make it back up to the top of the mountain on my own in this condition—but I bet I can with your help.”

  I offered him my hand. “Then let’s get team Hardy-Kroopnik in gear!”

  “Copy that,” Joe confirmed, grabbing Dr. K’s pack as I helped him back to his feet.

  We moved out single file with Joe in the lead, Dr. K limping along with a walking stick, and me bringing up the rear.

  We hadn’t made it far when a familiar voice drifted down to us from farther up the hill. We all came to an instant halt. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t human. It was raccoon.

  “Ricky,” Joe whispered angrily as the rick-rick-rick-rick of the raccoon’s signature chatter grew closer. “You’d better get that tranquilizer gun ready, Doc.”

  “We can’t use this on a raccoon, Joe,” he whispered back. “There’s enough sedative in there to put a full-grown mountain lion to sleep so I can fit it with a radio collar.”

  “Good, then it should do the trick on whoever Ricky Raccoon brought with him,” Joe replied, tightening the grip on his hatchet. “Hopefully we won’t have to use it, but whoever followed us into the cave was armed, and we’re not leaving you alone, so running isn’t an option. If we can get the drop on them, maybe we can make them take a nap before anyone gets hurt for real.”

  Dr. Kroopnik nodded reluctantly. Nervous beads of sweat dotted his brow, but he didn’t back down. And neither did I.

  I scanned the woody hill ahead of us. Whoever was up there had the high ground. The only advantage we might have would be surprise—if we saw them before they saw us.

  “We’d better take cover behind those trees,” I whispered. “Maybe we can catch them in an ambush.”

  We had just begun to move off the trail when another voice boomed out from up the hill. This one didn’t sound human either. It sounded demonic.

  “Take one more step, and none of you leave this mountain alive.”

  I gulped as a figure stepped out from behind a large maple tree. There’d been an ambush, all right—and we’d been the ones to walk right into it. The assailant wore camo like the perp on Dr. K’s trail cam, only now we could see the rest of him clearly too. Not that it helped me identify him. Half his face was hidden by an enormous, unkempt beard. The features I could see were large and exaggerated, almost like a Neanderthal’s. A bushy bearskin hat sat atop his head. In his hands were a pair of Old West–style six-shooters.

  It was as if the mythical man-eating wild man Aleksei had once pretended to be had come to life for real.

  13 MASKED MAYHEM

  JOE

  DROP IT, DR. DOOM,” THE GUNMAN commanded Dr. K. “Or should I say Dr. Doomed.”

  He let out a fiendish laugh. His voice was unnaturally deep and electronic, like the way people in witness protection sound on true crime shows when the producers change their voices and stick them in the shadows to hide their identities. I had a pretty good hunch it wasn’t the gunman’s real voice either. He or she had to be using one of the small, portable voice changers spy shops sell online.

  His voice wasn’t all he was hiding. Once the initial shock at his appearance wore off and I took a closer look at his face, I could tell he was wearing a mask and fake beard. It was like he was a parody of Aleksei’s wild mountain man legend. Only unlike Aleksei, this wild man meant us harm.

  I couldn’t tell who the perp behind the fake face and voice was. I just knew it wasn’t the same one who’d broken into Dr. K’s station and chased us through the cave. Because this one didn’t reek of skunk. The question was, were Beard Face and Stinky partners, or was there more than one would-be gem thief on the loose on Black Bear Mountain?

  I could tell from how tightly Dr. K was gripping his tranquilizer gun that he was more worried about Beard Face’s revolver than his identity.

  “You’ve got one shot of a low-velocity dart that you’ll have to shoot uphill.” It seems Beard Face had noticed the tranquilizer gun as well. “I’ve got the high ground and twelve high-powered slugs to go with it. Think you can hit me with that little pop gun of yours before I put lead into both your friends here?”

  I hated to admit it, but he was right. We’d been outmaneuvered.

  “He’s got the drop on us, Doc. Better do as he says,” I told Max.

  The features of his mask didn’t change, but I could hear the smile in his mechanized voice. “You can call me the Ghost of the Wild Man.”

  “Aleksei wasn’t a coward who pointed guns at teenagers,” Max shot back.

  “Shut up and throw me the garnets,” Beard Face snapped. “I know you’ve got them.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Max bluffed, his voice shaking.

  Beard Face cocked the hammers on both guns. “You can give them to me voluntarily, or I can take them off you.”

  There was an earsplitting BANG as his right trigger finger twitched. Splinters of wood erupted from the tree two feet to Max’s left. I didn’t know who the self-proclaimed Ghost of the Wild Man was, but he wasn’t shooting ghost bullets.

  Frank looked at me. I didn’t want to, but I nodded. The gems were valuable, but not as valuable as our lives. Frank pulled the bag with the demantoids from his pocket.

  “Come and get them,” he said.

  My heart pounded inside my chest. If we could lure Beard Face close enough, we might get an opening to disarm him.

  “Nice try, kid. You’re gonna toss them on the ground for the raccoon,” commanded the mechanized voice.

  Frank gritted his teeth. And then did what the gunman said.

  “Fetch, Ricky.”

  The raccoon didn’t seem particularly thrown by the voice changer and scurried down the hill. I sneered at the varmint as it snatched the baggie in its teeth. First my trail mix, then my jerky, now Aleksei’s garnets. This furry little masked thief was really getting on my nerves. Ricky must have known what I was thinking, because he hissed in my direction on his way back up the hill. I hissed back.

  Ricky’s master holstered one of his pistols, took the bag from Ricky, and held it up to the light. Sparkles of brilliance and color washed over them. “At last! The cannibal’s gems are ours!”

  “Aleksei’s not a cannibal. If anyone on this mountain is a monster, it’s yo
u,” Max shouted.

  Beard Face took a few steps closer and tossed three double-looped plastic zip ties on the ground. They were the same kind police sometimes use as disposable handcuffs.

  “Help each other cuff your hands behind your backs.”

  “You’re going to have to make us,” I said.

  Beard Face nodded at the fresh bullet hole in the tree next to Max and cocked the hammer on the pistol a second time. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”

  Max put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Let’s do what he says, boys. I can’t stand the idea of you coming out here to help me and getting badly hurt because of it.”

  If looks were laser beams, I would have zapped Beard Face right off the mountain. They’re not, though, so we were stuck doing what he ordered. I intentionally left Frank’s cuffs a little loose to give us a fighting chance at escape, and I had a feeling he’d done the same to Max. Beard Face was a step ahead of us, though, tightening each tie once our hands were zipped behind our backs.

  “Now each of you take a seat with your backs to that big tree,” he ordered, jamming a pistol into Dr. K’s side to let us know he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “You can’t just leave us here in the middle of the wilderness cuffed to a tree without food or water,” Frank said as Beard Face tied us to the tree with a length of rope.

  “You brought this on yourselves by meddling.” Beard Face gave the knot an extra yank to tighten it, then patted the butt of each pistol. “Glad you didn’t make me use these. I hate violence.”

  It sounded so ridiculous coming out of Beard Face’s mouth, I couldn’t help laughing. “You could have fooled us. Since we got here, we’ve been assaulted with a tree, turned into bear bait, chased off a cliff, shot at, and tied up at gunpoint.”

  “Necessary evils,” Beard Face replied. “When we found out the famous Hardy boys were coming to help Kroopnik, we had to put contingency plans in motion to stop you from snooping around.”