29 July, 1984
2234 Local Time



       At about the same time that Dr. Carpentier watched his wife and
pilots fly away towards Millinocket, Dr. Quest's breathless and
exhausted little group was close to their limits of endurance as they
tried to evade the last of the three creatures which pursued them. The
other two monsters had been stopped by the combined fire of Old Bess,
the state police co-pilot's shotgun, and most importantly, Benton's
amazingly effective green anestha darts. The sedative had in fact done
so well as to just about render Rachel and Drew's shotguns moot. Yet the
Doctor had only four such darts with him at Mary's Bend, and to the
minute had fired three, all for effective hits. He in fact had a number
of other darts. But they were loaded with a less effective sedative, and
Benton expected to have to use all four of them to take down one animal,
alone.
         The Doctor had stopped the first two of the three beasts on his
trail by running about twenty yards ahead of his friends and lining up a
careful shot with his green darts. He was just kneeling down, once again
about twenty yards ahead of them in order to shoot at the last of the
pursuers, when he saw Jordan jump over the roots of a large tree, catch
his foot, and then fall heavily no farther than thirty feet from the
monster behind. Yet Benton was lined up for the snap shot that he
instantly took. And Rachel, running right on the boy's heels, also saw
him go down.  She just as quickly turned and fired at the same time as
her husband. The enraged animal, wounded by fleshettes and feeling the
fast effects of the powerful anestha, slowed, staggered, and finally
fell face down around the same tree roots over which Jordan and Rachel
had just jumped.

       It then rolled over the entrapped young man, and the others heard
him scream.

       Rachel was right there, yet the still unknown danger required her
to reload Old Bess as John, Ramona and Drew ran back to her aid. Benton
was right behind them, himself slamming home a less powerful blue
anestha dart as he swore sulfurously.
       "Let's get that thing off of him!" Drew cried.
       But John hesitated, blocking the pilot with his arm. "Wait!"
        Dr. Quest nodded in understanding. They could not see the boy,
and thus they did not know of his circumstances. "Jordi? Jordi, do you
hear me?"
       "Yes, Doctor!" came the somewhat muffled reply.
       "Are you hurt?" Benton then asked.
       "Yes! ...My leg hurts!"
       "Can you breath?" John asked.
       "Yes! ...Dr. Quest, my ANKLE!"
       "Hold on, Jordi! ...John, your rope! We can loop it around that
heavy branch overhead, and then lift the thing straight off the top of
him!"
       The Penobscot simply nodded, then smoothly threw the coil of his
line up and over the limb twenty feet above. He then ran his end under
one of the creature's shoulders, behind it's head, then back under the
other shoulder, after which he tied and expert slip knot that
effectively secured the heavy animal. He then joined the ladies and Drew
on the other end of the rope, and on Dr. Quest's signal they pulled with
all of their might.
       "Stop and hold!" Benton shouted. DEAR GOD!
       Jordan, heavily bloodied by the bleeding beast, lay doubled over,
his left foot caught very tightly in the roots of the same tree that
provided the leveraging tree branch.

       The boy's left ankle was grossly broken.

       "How bad is it?" Rachel asked.
       The injured youngster answered her with a strangled cry of pain.
       "BAD!" Benton said. "I'll have to get behind you four and secure
your end of the line so that you can help me free him!" And in three
minutes, it was done.
       "Oh, NO!" Rachel exclaimed when she saw the tearful but quiet
boy. She then sank down beside her little friend and let him take his
pain out on her hand. AMAZING THAT HE'S NOT SCREAMING FROM IT. "Squeeze
as tightly as you need to, Jordi. ...Someone get him something to bite
on, fast!"
       "This," John replied, handing over a short piece of tough black
root.
       "Bite down, Jordi," Rachel commanded.
       Benton then spoke. "John, we can free him if you and Drew lift
him while I work with his foot."
       "Up and to the left like so," John showed the officer.
       "I see it." And the two men made ready as Dr. Quest took hold of
Jordan's foot.
       "This will hurt," the Doctor softly said.
       The boy closed his eyes and nodded.
       "Slowly," Benton commanded. And with that, John and Drew
carefully lifted and turned Jordi. He, of course, felt it in his bones,
both squeezing Rachel's hand much harder and emitting a choked little
outcry as he spit out the black root. She in turn caught it and put it
right back in his mouth. The foot just as quickly came free, cradled
very carefully in Dr. Quest's hands. "Stop! Let me stand up with you,
and we'll set him down in that soft turf to my left."
       "Slowly," Benton reminded them once he was on his feet. And in a
fast few moments, they had their little charge laid out in the wet
grass. "Rachel, you'll have to let Ramona help him while you and Drew
stand guard."
       "All right. ...Be strong, Jordi," she said as she gently combed
his hair with her fingers. In reply, he gave her hand one last
reassuring squeeze. God, he looked like he HURT. She then stood up and
let Ramona take her place.
       But Dr. Quest quickly stopped his wife. "Your gun?"
       "Let me count... I have twenty-two rounds left," she replied.
"Enough for eleven full shots."
       The Doctor then turned to his copilot. "Drew?"
       "Maybe as few as forty. I used up a lot of ammunition."
       "That will do," Dr. Quest smiled. He wanted to ask how it was
possible that Drew was carrying so many rounds. But Jordan needed help,
and fast. "Take the threat axis." And both the copilot and Rachel
dispersed accordingly.
       "What do you think?" John asked as Benton examined the boy's
ankle.
       "Closed unifracture of the lower tibia with some light
hemorrhaging and associated edema of the lower gastronemius and dermis."
The Doctor gently palpated the area with his fingertips. "It seems to be
a clean radial break."
       Hawkes almost smiled. He understood the technical discourse even
as he saw that Dr. Quest wasn't paying any attention to whether or not
that he did. It was indeed good that John was there. He had seen and
assisted with many such injuries as Jordan's, and he was someone who
understood how to take the edge off of both the boy's pain AND everyone
else's concern for him. "May I see it?"
       "You're experienced with such as this?" Benton asked as he stood
up and made way.
       "Quite a great deal, actually," John replied as he knelt and
checked the ankle. "Yes, you are right. It is a clean break that we may
set if you choose to do so."
       Dr. Quest thought about it. John was going to have to carry
Jordan or Ramona was going to have to handle one end of a litter. No,
the boy would have to be carried by the sure-footed Hawkes so that
Ramona would be free to provide support. It would thus be best to do the
most that they could in order to stabilize Jordan's leg. "Have you done
it before, John?"
       "Several times, yes. He will feel me set the bone, Doctor. Yet
afterwards he will feel much less pain once we have him in splints."
       "I wish that I'd short-packed our medical kit. I left it in our
helicopter."
       "He will endure, Doctor. I have done this many times. A number of
those were on children, and in no case did any of them faint from the
pain. The danger is in manipulating what you would call an longitudinal
fracture of the tibia, where the bone ends are much more splintered, and
consequently do not heal well. I have had grown men faint from the pain
of setting breaks such as those."
       "How much farther is it to the Piscataquis' camp?"
       "Two hours. It is perhaps one mile west of the east-west spur of
Northern Jo-Mary Lakes."
       Benton met John's eyes, and in them saw quiet confidence. "Find
what we need for splints while I cut up my undershirt for straps."
       "Yes, Doctor."



2315 Local Time



       Lecia, Jaret and Michelle had flown almost all of the way to
Millinocket when the unprecedented happened. The always reliable
Rynglock permanent repair procedure that had been applied to their
helicopter's number one engine fuel return line, the repair that could
not fail, somehow DID fail, allowing raw jet fuel to once again spray
out into the PT-6 turboshaft's nacelle. This time it started a fire, one
that was evident both in the little red warning light that flashed
bright to dim in front of each pilots' eyes, and also in the incredibly
loud warning bell that assaulted everyone's' ears via their headsets.
Neither the bell nor the light was able to be extinguished until the
fire itself was put out, and Jaret began to work on that right away,
once again working under the pressures of time, distance, decaying
altitude, and his pilot's inevitable outburst of profanity.

       "Shut that damn bell down!" Lecia almost screamed as she
increased power and collective. She knew that Jaret would instantly kill
the recalcitrant engine, and in doing so would cut her available power
by half.

       "Number one fire handle pulled! First shot taken!" the copilot
called in reply. In the fast and simple action of pulling the fire
handle and turning it to the left, he automatically shut off the flow of
fuel to the burning powerplant, the flow of hydraulic fluid from it, the
flow of electrical power to and from it, and all of its pneumatic
functions. Raising the fire handle also armed the Aerospatial's fire
extinguishing system, which was comprised of two Purple K fire bottles
and their associated squibs and plumbing. Jaret "shot" the first bottle
by turning to the left the same fire handle that he had just pulled.
This in turn applied an electrical charge to the number one engine
primary bottle's primary squib, which was an explosive device similar in
size to a blank 16 gauge shotgun shell. The squib fired, which in turn
ruptured the sealing diaphragm of the pressurized fire bottle, allowing
it to push its full load of fire suppressing PK through the associated
system plumbing and into the number one engine nacelle through its
discharge nozzles.

       ...But it didn't put out the fire.

       "What the hell?" Jaret wondered. "Request permission to take the
second shot!"
       Lecia made the tough decision almost instantly. They had one
remaining fire bottle, that being the one that was normally dedicated to
the healthy number two engine. Yet both fire bottles were cross tied,
meaning that they could be used to fight a fire on the opposite engine
through their secondary squibs and associated plumbing. Still, it was
the last bottle. Talon was loathe to use it immediately, but she knew
that the first bottle had to have kicked the nacelle fire way back.
There was very little sense in allowing it to rage up to the point of
once again being too large for a single bottle to put it out.
       "Take it!" Lecia ordered, seeing Jaret instantly turn the number
one fire handle from all of the way to its left, through its neutral
position, all of the way over to its right. She then keyed up her radio.
"Millinocket State Police Post, Talon, IFE."
       "Go, Talon."
       Lecia saw that the fire was finally out. "Millinocket, we have
just put out a fire on our number one engine. We are ten minutes out,
destination yours."
       "The pad is clear, and we'll call the volunteers for your fire.
Do you require any further assistance?"
       Lecia met Jaret's eyes. "If you have a veterinarian in town, wake
him up."
       "Say again, Talon?"
       "I said that we need a veterinarian. We also need you to call
your captain and have him come in."
       "Talon, state urgency."
       "Get them right the hell now!" Lecia swore right over the radio.
       The duty state police officer didn't know what was really wrong,
but he wasn't about to ignore Talon's tone. "Wilco. You get a fire
truck, a veterinarian, and my captain, all as quickly as possible. Are
you able to say why you need them?"
       "You'll understand why in about six more minutes, Milli'. Talon
clear." Lecia then changed frequencies.
       "What are you doing?" Jaret wondered.
       His pilot smiled. "We're down for the night, right?"
       "For at least the rest of the night and all day tomorrow," he
agreed.
       "And the Millinocket state police helo is back at Mary's Bend,
pilotless. And we have to fly in spite of it."
       Jaret thought that he knew where she was going with her thoughts.
"Who's got the Company late duty tonight?"
       "I dunno. I want to get Kyle and Kayleen," Lecia replied.
       "Those two will do," Jaret laughed.
       "Exactly. ...Michelle, are you all right?"
       "Fine, Lecia. The fire stayed outside."
       OH, I KNOW, Talon said to herself. Her helicopter had a very good
stainless steel firewall between the engine and its airframe. "How's
that cub?"
       "It's still alive, and quiet."
       "Good. ...I don't hear Kyle," the pilot then said to Jaret.
       He smiled. "On a night like this, you're going to have to call
them at their place."
       "Yeah. ...There's the landing pad, and the fire truck is about a
mile farther away."
       "How're your controls?"
       Lecia frowned. "Heavy. This landing is going to take some nerve.
...Michelle, we might land kind of hard."
       "I'm laying flat on the floor beside the baby."
       "Very well. Stay just so until one of us opens the door for you."

       "Yes, Lecia," Michelle replied.
       "Jaret, shut down number two just as soon as we touch down."
       "Got it," the copilot replied.
       Lecia had been approaching the state police post landing pad very
slowly. But she cycled forwards more when she saw that the fire truck
had arrived there. After another minute, she began to chant the landing
littony. "Wind from the west, here we go... Power'r... There's the
ground effect, now flare. Feel for the pad. Feel for i'it... Touchdown!"

       "Engine's off! Fuel is off!" Jaret called.
       "I've got shutdown! Egress and look after our bird! I want to fly
it again as soon as possible!"
       Jaret was gone two seconds later.
       From the left, firemen rushed in under the still running rotor
blades, going for the smoking number one engine. Yet another one threw
open the right side sliding door, reaching for Michelle. "Stop!" she
exclaimed.
       "GEEZUS!" the fireman replied when he saw the cub.
       "Shutdown complete!" Jaret called.
       Lecia appeared beside the stunned fireman. "GOD that thing is
ugly! ...The fire was on the left engine, Michelle. It's out."
       "Whew!" Mrs. Carpentier smiled and replied.
       The Millinocket state police post captain appeared, as did the
duty officer that Lecia had earlier spoken to on the radio. The latter
took one look at the crying little creature on the helicopter's floor,
and he threw up all over the Aerospatial's right side float.

       The Captain pointed to the cub and spoke to the pilot. "That why
you asked for a vet?"

       "Yes sir," Lecia replied.
       "She'll be here in a minute. We sent a car out to get her. By the
way, what is it, and what the hell happened to you that you have it?"
       Michelle spoke up. "It's a black bear cub, Captain... one that's
been warped by methyl mercury poisoning of the environment around
several of the lakes and ponds in these mountains. It's parents are
huge, and Dr. Quest and my husband are afraid that those very same
parents are accountable for all of the deaths and disturbances that
you've been investigating.
       The Captain met her eyes with steely speculation.
       Michelle carried on. "Is the veterinarian that's coming any
good?"
       "48 years old, and she's been a vet for a couple of decades.
...Where are Drs. Quest and Carpentier?"
       Lecia answered that one. "We're not sure about Dr. Quest. He
called up Dr. Carpentier and asked for support at Mary's Bend. Dr.
Carpentier then called me up and asked for a ride. Jaret and I picked
the Doc and Michelle up at Jo-Mary Lakes, and the four of us then flew
up to the Bend right through the worst of tonight's storm. Found your
helicopter to be abandoned, and no sign of Dr. Quest's party. We DID,
however, find four of these animals. Two were babies and two were
adults. One adult was down either dead or sedated, but the other one was
awake and highly agitated. Dr. Carpentier subsequently shot it with an
anestha dart, sedating it. He then went down on the end of my winch line
and came back up with the cub that you see here. We then saw evidence
that Dr. Quest's party may have fled south from the Bend towards the
Piscatquis' settlement at Northern Jo-Mary Lakes. Dr. Carpentier ordered
me to fly there, where he then went back down on my line and stayed.
Michelle, Jaret and I then flew here with the cub, hoping to obtain help
for Dr. Quest's party."
       "How are they armed?"
       "Your pilots' standard arms and an anestha gun for Dr. Quest,
plus Mrs. Quest's sawed-off Remington shotgun. Dr. Carpentier has an
anestha gun, a very good .444 Winchester lever-action, and four assorted
shotguns. Two of those are semis, one is a breech-loading magnum twelve
gauge, and the last is a twelve gauge pumper."
       The Captain sighed. "Not a lot I can do without your helicopter
and my own other than to call one of the other posts for help. And they
won't want to give up their assets without asking for an arm, a leg, my
ass AND yours, Lecia."
       "Oh, I know it. With your concurrence, I want to do something
else."
       "Yeah?" the Captain calmly asked.
       Lecia took a deep breath, then the plunge. "Kyle and Kayleen
Kelly own a pretty decent UH-1 Huey. I want to call them up."
       The Captain wasn't happy about it. "Just how good is their
helicopter?"
       "It's a Vietnam War survivor that his father bought and
refurbished for his core business. Has floats, a controllable spotlight,
a real good door winch, and one each heavy centerline winch for what you
might call REALLY big jobs. Kyle inherited it along with the rest of his
dad's estate."
       "Have you seen it lately?"
       "Sure have, sir. It's in good shape, and Kyle's got about two
thousand hours flying in it. Kayleen has about four hundred hours as his
copilot."
       A police cruiser then pulled up, and from it appeared the needed
veterinarian. The Captain waved her over before turning back to Lecia.
"Call 'em."
       "Yes sir." And Lecia walked inside the police post in order to
use the telephone.
       "Captain Aguilar," the vet amiably smiled.
       "Dr. Shalk. Sorry to have had to call you out tonight, but we've
got one heck of an odd situation building up in the hills. Take a look
inside the door there."
       The Doctor looked, and everyone heard her take a sharp breath
before she climbed inside the helicopter in order to look even closer.
"Ursa Americanus! But what has happened to it?"
       "Methyl mercury poisoning of its environment," the Captain
replied.
       "How?" Dr. Shalk demanded to know as she checked the little
creature's injector pathway.
       Michelle once again replied. "The paper company appears to have
been using TMT as a preservative for their lumber stocks."
       "Good Lord! The stocks that they keep in almost every pond in the
White Mountains?"
       "Yes, Doctor."
       Dr. Shalk was dissatisfied. "Who discovered that? And if I may
ask, who are you?"
       "I am Michelle Carpentier, the wife of Dr. Alain Carpentier of
Canada. We are working for the EPA with Dr. Benton Quest of Rockport,
Maine. It was he who discovered that it is methyl mercury that has
warped this animal and many others."
       "Ah, Dr. Quest. Yes, I've met both Benton and his late father. He
would not be mistaken in his analysis. ...Well, if the lumber company is
at the bottom of all of this, then we need to try to keep this poor
creature alive. Lucky for us AND it that it's quiet. Let's get it into
the car and on to my place, and I'll do everything that I can to help
it."
       The Captain turned to one of the firemen. "Do your people have a
back board?"
       "Oh, yeah. I'll get it."
       The Captain then spoke to Dr. Shalk. "Doc, I hope you won't take
this the wrong way, but I want to keep a trooper with you at your
place."
       "Oh, I know. This poor creature is living legal evidence of a
probable widespread atrocity. God knows that I myself would feel safer
to be so guarded."
       "Good."
       The fireman returned. "One each back board."
       "Let me lift the cub so that you can slide the board underneath
it," Dr. Shalk replied "Good. Now let me secure it, and then we'll carry
it to the car."
       Lecia then returned. "Kyle and Kayleen need to preflight their
chopper, and they'll be in the air in about an hour. They're gonna come
here and pick up me and Jaret, and then we'll head on back up to the
Piscataquis' camp."
       "How many men will that chopper hold?" the Captain asked.
       Lecia laughed. "Oh, a fully loaded squad!"
       "You want a few men, or the 900 Nitro?"
       "Four men equipped for the field, plus the Nitro and your best
shooter. We may have to insert them. The Huey doesn't have the floor
mounts for a stabilized shot from in the air."
       The Captain nodded. I'll also try to get Bangor to send us their
helicopter. The captain there is a friend of mine. ...Listen: if you
have room, I want you to take my nightshift pilots and try to get my own
helicopter back out of Mary's Bend. I know damn well that you're flying
on adrenaline, and that Kyle and Kayleen have probably been up all day
as well."
       "They'll be mighty welcome," Lecia seriously replied.



30 July, 1984
0300 Local Time



       It was perhaps four hours later when Dr. Quest, Rachel, John,
Ramona, and the state police co-pilot, arrived and entered the little
encampment where Dr. Carpentier and an elder of the Piscataquis tribe
were waiting for them. They looked like they'd run the entire ten miles
from Mary's Bend. Benton and Rachel looked for all the world as though
they'd barely arrived alive, and the police officer seemed only
marginally better off than those two. Ramona seemed well enough, but
then she SHOULD seem so... she was born and raised in the White
Mountains. Lastly came John, who otherwise would have "weathered" his
trip from the Bend even better than Ramona, if he hadn't already run
twice as far just to get there in the first place. He had not had the
benefit of a helicopter ride, as had the others. Yet a hidden benefit of
his ordeal had been that he had earlier sent a friend to this very camp
into which he'd just led the others. This was the reason why Dr.
Carpentier had been very well taken care of when he arrived; John's
friend had informed the Piscataquis that they should expect both
trouble, and by close association as far as the Indians were concerned,
Whites. At least he'd also told them that these particular Whites were
to be trusted.
       Alain saw that Jordan had arrived with Benton's group, as well.
Yet John was carrying him very carefully, the boy's right ankle being
obviously broken as was revealed by his splints. Hawkes saw Dr.
Carpentier, and he made straight for him with the others close behind.
The Doctor met his son's gaze, seeing that he was damp of eyes and pale
with the preeminence of shock. He remained in considerable pain, yet
still he was quiet.

       "Let's get him into the tunnels, John."

       After perhaps another half an hour, Jordan was just about the
right kind of sleepy from the effects of a set of shots of morphine from
his father's medical kit. It was a dangerous thing to do in that not
even Dr. Quest was sure how much of the drug to give to an eleven
year-old, yet the boy had to have it. The pain, in combination with his
falling body temperature, threatened to drive him into unconsciousness,
and afterwards absolute shock. That, of course, would have been fatal.
He had to be kept awake until he could be given into the care of a real
hospital. Benton thus gave a small shot of morphine two times until
Jordan felt less pain, yet was easily enough kept awake. Rachel and
Ramona took care of that, drying, then wrapping and warming their
injured little friend in heavy blankets, allowing the doctors and John
to join the elder and his people back outside of the tunnels. ...At
least, the men left after Dr. Carpentier smiled and handed his son his
brand new BPS Browning shotgun.
      "C'est pour vous, Jordi. Ce soucier."
       "Oui, ma pére."
       "Is it loaded?" Rachel asked.
       Alain understood her concern. "It is, indeed. Yet its chamber is
empty, and its safety is on."
       "Oh, I see." Alain was obviously using a bit of psychology on
Jordan, allowing him a feeling of power knowing that the shotgun could
instantly be confiscated by either Rachel or Ramona as required.
       ...Not that it would be. The boy really was highly disciplined
with firearms, having already checked the chamber and safety for himself
as he then set the Browning down beside him.

       UNBELIEVABLE! Rachel exclaimed to no one but herself. Even
injured and on strong sedative medication, Jordan handled firearms with
perfect care. WHY? Mrs. Quest then wondered. WHY WOULD HIS OBVIOUSLY
LOVING AND CARING PARENTS TEACH HIM EXPERT FIREARMS HANDLING AND LATER
EXPOSE HIM TO DANGERS THE LIKES OF THESE MONSTERS?
       WHO ARE THESE FRIENDS?

       "Rachel?" Alain was saying as he held her .444 Winchester.
       She had been staring at Jordan, not Dr. Carpentier who surprised
her. "Oh! ...Thank-you, Alain."
       "Are you all right?" he asked.
       "Yes, I am. Let me take care of Jordi."
       Benton hugged her from behind, lingeringly.



       As the men made their way back above ground, there was a fire
there that Dr. Quest quickly noticed. "A pity that we can't keep him
close to the heat of that, but he's safer down below. We couldn't get
him in there fast enough if one of those things were to wake up and
track us here."
       "Too true," Dr. Carpentier had to admit. He wasn't too worried,
though. His son was in good hands. Rachel loved Jordan, and Ramona knew
field medicine like the back of her hand.
       Benton then smiled for the Piscataquis elder. "You have a very
smart settlement here."
       "It is as we have built for many years."
       "I like the way that you build the tunnel entrances directly
under your homes. But tell me: how come you don't connect them so that
you can move between your homes while underground?"
       "In some cases, it can be done."
       "I see," Dr. Quest wisely replied. The elder obviously didn't
want to say any more than he already had.
       "What happened?" Alain then asked.
       Benton continued. "We were forced from Mary's Bend by not less
than three out of a group of five adult Ursas— major, horrible things of
incredible size and ferocity. One of them caught our pilot by his feet
and ripped him in two just about as easily as you or I might tear a
sheet of paper in half. It then threw the remains at Rachel, knocking
her down."
       "I had thought that something must have messed her. ...Your
weapons?"
       "The green anestha darts had a fast effect on the beasts. We were
running from them for the first hour, at the end of which Jordi caught
his foot in the roots of a tree as he ran. It was incredible in that
right then was when I stopped the last animal with my last green dart.
But the cursed thing fell on top of him, stressing and breaking his
tibia about four inches above the metatarsal. We then leveraged the hulk
off of him and freed up his foot. John next set the ankle, after which
he stabilized it. We subsequently came straight here, encountering no
more problems."
       "Thank-you," Alain replied. And he actually shook John's hand.
       "Very well done," Benton smiled and agreed.
       John took it all modestly. "Your son is strong, Doctor. He made
it easy for me."
       "Yes, he honors and even humbles me. Just last afternoon, my wife
and I both found ourselves doubting him. He's of an age where he's
becoming just a bit unpredictable, and yet... Well, he has a true heart.

       "Quite so," Dr. Quest replied.
       "Benton, had you left your medical kit in the state police
helicopter?" Alain then asked.
       "Yes, including all of our field rations and supplies."
       "Morphine's too dangerous for someone Jordi's age, but my kit
doesn't have any of that prescription strength Tylenol that you brought
from Rockport."
       Dr. Quest nodded.  "Let's hope that Lecia's coming. Otherwise,
we'll have to go with what we have. ...What happened with you?" he then
asked.
       "Her helicopter broke down right before it landed at Jo-Mary
Lake... a return fuel line leak that just about started a fire in the
right engine nacelle. Lecia and Jaret were carrying the repair parts,
quite fortunately. After about an hour of his hard work, we were under
way. Just ran into and through the worst of this evening's storms. We
eventually arrived at the Bend, finding your abandoned helicopter, a
live and agitated adult Ursa, a dead or sleeping adult Ursa, and two
infant cubs. I got lucky with a green dart shot on the live adult, after
which I had Michelle lower me head first on the end of our helicopter's
winch line."
       "In that storm?" Drew incredulously asked.
       "Yes. A very foolish and dangerous thing to do, and you can see
what it's done to my hands. Yet part of it is from the live cub that we
took. Lecia, Jaret and Michelle carried it to Millinocket. They should
be on their way back here even as we speak."
       "Good!" Benton replied. "Have you tried that walkie-talkie there
on your hip?"
       "Yes, at calling both them and yourself. I should try once
again."
       "Do so," Dr. Quest agreed.
       Alain powered up called. "Talon, Quebec Charlie?"

       There was no answer.

       "Possibly she's running into some company interference from
Atlantic Coast," Benton thought.
       The state police co-pilot disagreed. "More than likely she's
taking on hardware. Her bird has floor mounts for our 900 Nitro."
       "A 900 Nitro?" Alain asked.
       Benton's face was neutral as he explained. "A 900 Nitro is a
nine-hundred grain heavy bullet, though as our officer says it's also
the name of the gun that fires the round."
       "Nine-hundred grain?" Dr. Carpentier replied rather dubiously.
"That's a two ounce round, Benton."
       "Yes, a gun with enough recoil to knock a strong man down. The
state police have a stabilized tripod that allows them to safely fire it
from in the air."
       "The round comes with a hollow point, too," the copilot added.
"We use them for problem bears."
       "Even ones so large as these?" Alain asked.
       "Yes, sir. The round... Well, it's about fifteen millimeters in
size. Its hollow point will hit the target and spread out to about the
diameter of a quarter as it passes through. It comes with about 3,800
feet per-second of velocity, and the exit wound that it leaves can be as
big as a softball. The actual gun has a second generation Starlight
scope for night vision. I'm pretty sure that my post's captain will want
Ms. Johnson to carry the gun and our best shooter on the way back here,
sir."
       Dr. Carpentier considered that for a moment before looking off
into the forest in resignation. "What a ghastly business this is."
       "Yes," Benton agreed. "Let's get everyone who—"

       The Doctor was suddenly cut off.



       Below the ground, Rachel was singing a soft little song to
Jordan, who was finally beginning to feel warm again. It helped that she
sat behind him, surrounding him with her arms and resting her chin on
his head. Yet she noticed that he was once again crying very quietly,
and— because of the morphine that he'd been given— she knew that it
couldn't be because his ankle still hurt him. Ramona, thinking exactly
the same thing, met Rachel's eyes, moving her to speak. "How you doing,
little buddy?"
       "Better, madam," Jordan sadly replied. "It aches, but not too
much so."
       Rachel proceeded very carefully. Young men had a tendency to
swallow certain kinds of pain, and she wasn't about to let this one get
away with it. She altered her voice so that it conveyed just a faint
hint of need. "Do you trust me?"
       That did the trick.  She had effectively caused him to forget
himself and think of her. "Madam?" Jordan asked in stunned surprised.
       Rachel secretly laughed, though she outwardly sighed in
continuity with her act. "I asked you if you trust me, Jordi. Do you?"
       "With my life, madam."
       She held him a bit more tightly to her.  "Something's depressed
you. I want you to tell me what it is."
       His reaction was surprisingly out of character. He bowed his head
in shame, choking on both the air that he took in and the horror that
pervaded his mind.
       Ramona moved forward with great care, first cradling Jordan's
face in her hands, then very gently lifting his head by the chin. She
had known this boy for less than a day, and already she cared for him as
deeply as Rachel herself did. He was crying, heavily. Ramona thought
that she knew why, though she remained silent.
       Rachel did not. She gently combed his hair with her fingers,
while Ramona dried his eyes. "What is it, Jordi?"
       He still couldn't speak, and so Ramona began for him. "Was it
something that happened at Mary's Bend?"
        OBVIOUSLY it was. Rachel, still holding the boy from behind,
felt him begin to draw huge gasps of air, his chest heaving with great
tearing sobs of grief. She stroked his right shoulder with her left hand
as she spoke very softly to him. "You talk. It will help you to let go
of it."
       "I can't!"
       Rachel, though gentle, was adamant. "Tell me."
       "Lieutenant Breland!" Jordan exclaimed.
       "Our pilot? What happened?"
       "I— Oh, GOD!"
       Rachel let him calm down for a few moments. "Start at the
beginning. Where were we when it happened?"
       Jordan gathered himself and spoke. "Where we were by the river,
when the monsters first came at us. Father, Dr. Quest, and John and
Ramona, had crossed the tree roots so that they could see the baby
creatures. You stayed with Sergeant Moraz and I, and those THINGS
attacked. You fired at them, and Sergeant Moraz did so as we all began
to run. I crossed the tree root first and found Dr. Quest's anestha gun
and dart bag where he left them by the tree. I— It just beat me!"
       "Oh, no. Did you line up to take a shot, but hesitate?"
       He nodded, once again sobbing in shame. "I had taken up Dr.
Quest's gun, and I was going to take a kneeling shot when I saw the
Lieutenant fall. I lowered my sights, thinking that he would stand up in
my line of fire. He— He just slipped! And that monster CAUGHT him! I
tried to shoot again. I had a clear shot when I stood up myself. But it
tore him then, and Dr. Quest took the gun away from me. You then fell,
and he fired."
       Rachel very quietly asked the last question. "So, I fell and was
saved by Benton's quick shooting. Yet you feel as though the Lieutenant
is dead because you didn't fire at all."
       She felt the chest labor begin again as he cried and nodded.
       "Jordi, think: did you have a clear shot when the Lieutenant
tried to stand up?"
       "No, madame."
       "And the monster killed him before you could line up a second
time?"
       "No! I had an instant in which I could have fired."
       Rachel became firm. "An instant, Jordi? Let me tell you
something. I watched you quite closely while you practiced with our
guns, and it's my opinion— and mind you that I'm someone who knows— that
you are as close to perfectly taught in the safe use of firearms as you
can possibly be."
       "Do you really believe so?" Jordan quietly asked.
       "Absolutely. ...Jordi, haven't you been taught not to take a snap
shot with a strange gun?"
       She felt the boy straighten up a bit in her arms. "A snap shot?"
he needed to know.
       "One where you line up your sights and shoot very quickly. It
would seem to me that you're father would not have overlooked such
lessons."
       "No, madame. He did not."
       Rachel summed it up. "So, your training— your hard-earned
shooter's instinct— rose up within you, and you could not fire. That's
good, because if you HAD fired, and if you had hit the Lieutenant, then
YOU would have killed him just as quickly as that creature did. Dr.
Quest's gun was loaded with enough anestha to put an elephant down. No
human being could have taken that shot and survived."
       "I reacted properly?" Jordan almost incredulously asked.
       "That's the way that I see it."
       The boy reached down and put his palm on his BPS shotgun. He was
still weeping, though it seemed to Rachel as if his soul had cleared.
"If only I had been carrying this. It's just like my own gun at home."
       "No, Jordi."
       "But, madame—"
       "He's dead, Jordi, and you are alive. You have to let him go so
that you yourself can carry on."
       "I could not forget him."
       "And you shouldn't. Yet there are proper and improper ways to
honor his memory. Reflecting on what otherwise might have been had you
had that shotgun, or even your own, is NOT the way to go about it."
       Jordan had finally calmed down. "What should I do?"
       Rachel certainly knew the answer. "Live, Jordi. Grow up and do
good things, remembering that it's the way that the Lieutenant himself
lived."
       "I can do that, madame. I can change the world, even."
       "Oh, REALLY?" she smiled. And he felt her laugh.
       "I can do it," Jordan tiredly replied. He seemed not to have
noticed his lady's humorous reaction to him. Medication, warmth, and a
clearer conscience began to combine and drive him in the direction of
sleep.
       That, of course, couldn't be allowed. Ramona met Rachel's eyes.
HE'S SLIPPING JUST A BIT.
       "Are you feeling sleepy?" Madame du Lumiére asked the boy.
       "A little," he replied. "I guess that the skiing lessons are over
with for the time being."
       "Oh, you'll learn."
       This time Jordan felt her chuckling. "Could you share that nice
thought?"
       GOTCHA, SLEEPY HEAD! "Ye'es. Do you remember when your father
first invited Benton and I up for the weekend at your home in Montreal?"

       "Oh, yes." And meeting Ramona's eyes, Rachel knew that she'd made
the young man smile.
       She laughed again. "You and I had just met, and my conversation
with your mother had turned to the matter of raising children up all of
the way through college. She said that, in an odd way, she was satisfied
that she and your father were most likely going to have to provide for
just your education, though she was smiling when she said it."
       "I remember the joke," Jordan quietly laughed.  "We were in our
kitchen, where mother was working on supper when you started to tell it
to her. She just about dropped a casserole when I cut in and finished it
for you."
       "Yeah!" Rachel laughed. "Do you remember how it went?"
       "Yes!"
       "I don't," Ramona smiled and said. "Tell it for me."
       Rachel outright grinned. "It went something like this: there's
this father, and he's lamenting the fact that three of his kids are in
graduate school. ...The punch line, Jordi?"
       "The father says: 'I've got three kids in graduate school. I'm
getting poorer by degrees."
       Ramona just grinned.
       "It was funnier the way that it happened in our kitchen," Jordan
smiled in reply.
       "I can imagine," Ramona smiled and agreed. "I should see if we
can bring down some heated water, or rocks. It's very cool down here."
       "Yes, see if the men can do that," Rachel replied.
       "I'll be right back," Ramona smiled.

       Two minutes later, they heard her screaming.



       The Destroyer wasn't quite like the other ursas that Benton and
Ramona had already encountered. For one thing, it very rapidly burst
from the bush beneath the forest on all four of its feet, roaring
mightily and scattering the five men by the fire in all directions, but
electing to pursue the much slower Piscataquis elder. Secondly, when it
caught up to the man and caught him in its jaws, it rose high on its
hind legs, revealing its extraordinary height of nearly eighteen feet.
Lastly, it came in the company of four other ursas, none of which was
smaller than twelve feet in height.
       They began to kill everything that moved.
       Ramona rose from the tunnels just in time to see the the elder
fly apart in three bloody pieces, cut by the Destroyer's incisors as it
shook the unfortunate Indian like a rag doll in its jaws. She then
screamed, alerting Rachel below ground, but also drawing the attention
of the Destroyer itself. Three other Indians appeared and attacked the
monster as John ran in under its advance and emerged with Ramona. Shots
rang out from the right as Drew covered Alain while the latter reloaded
his anestha gun with a green dart. Being pressed from the left, he had
just missed with his first attempt. And counting the shot that he had
taken at Mary's Bend, he had two darts left, one of which was now in his
weapon. He selected a smaller ursa that was harassing a number of
Indians and fired. His target went down and did not get up.
       Presuming that every ursa that had come was already in the camp,
Dr. Quest had fled into the tree line and was firing into the clearing
with everything that he had left in his own anestha dart kit. He had
wanted to concentrate on the Destroyer, but it was hidden, tearing up
the home of the Indian family that lived over the top of the tunnel
wherein Rachel and Jordan were hidden. Benton fervently hoped that his
wife had remained with the boy and not exposed herself. But he knew that
she couldn't sit still and do nothing, knowing full well what was going
on. John and Ramona then appeared beside the Doctor. Hawkes had her lay
beside Benton, who after reloading set his hand on her back, compelling
her to remain with him. John then ran back into the camp, shouting to
the exposed Piscataquis in their native language. "Your tunnels! Get
into your tunnels!" Several obeyed at once, though two more fell victim
to the three remaining smaller ursas as the Destroyer itself finally
leveled the home above Rachel and Jordan. Benton cringed as he shot it
with a blue dart and watched it walk as if unfazed through the rubble.
       Below the ground, Rachel, having heard Ramona's scream, reacted
instantly by seizing Bess and her Winchester as she moved for the
vertical tunnel entrance. Once there, she looked up the ladder, and
immediately had the entryway walls cave in on her as the monster above
trod the ground where the house once stood. Nearby, Jordan saw her try
to scramble out from under the deluge, but fall like a pole-axed cow as
a softball sized rock caught her on the back of her head. He began to
struggle out of his blankets, painfully jarring his broken ankle as he
tried to reach her. He found that he could move effectively by dragging
the blanket below his splints, pulling it with him. Nevertheless, he was
seeing blue by the time that he reached her. She was mostly covered by
dirt, though her head and shoulders were exposed. He found that she was
breathing, but that there was no way that he could dig her out but
slowly. So he sat up beside her, and sang to her as he held HER hand and
began to move what little of the loam that he could. He lastly looked
above, finding that their only way out was now completely closed.
       Back above ground, Alain had taken down a second ursa with his
last green anestha dart. He and Drew had also made their way around the
camp in the general direction of Benton and Ramona, who were once again
joined by John. However, the surviving Piscataquis were now all
underground. The three remaining ursas, which were all still in the
camp, locked in on the movements of Drew and made straight for both he
and Dr. Carpentier. Benton saw it and shot the Destroyer with a second
blue dart. He happily noticed that Alain hit it with a third. However,
he UN-happily noticed that it noticed the three humans on its flank, and
in not less than two seconds Dr. Quest, John and Ramona once again found
themselves in the flight of their lives. At least they weren't alone. To
their right, Alain and Drew were running from the two smaller ursas.

       All five of them ran south... towards Southern Jo-Mary Lakes.



End Part VII