Flight of the Golden Harpy (14 page)

Shail shook his head, hoping to clear his mind. From the beginning of their reunion, he had been on the debilitating drugs that hindered his instincts and destroyed his telepathy. He glanced into her concerned watery eyes and knew she only wanted what was best for him. He would have to trust her.

“Please, Shail,” she said. “We’re running out of time.”

Shail sniffed the vehicle again and shuddered. He reluctantly but slowly slid off the floating stretcher and climbed into the vehicle. He curled up into a tight defensive ball and swallowed hard, staring at her.

*   *   *

“Good boy, sleep now. All this will be over soon,” said Kari, stroking his head. She opened another sedative patch and placed it on his back, fearing he might become rambunctious with the journey. She shut the door and locked it.

Kari leaped into the driver’s seat and started the engines. The vehicle moved down the deserted streets, and they reached the old highway. She turned left, heading west toward the coast. Glancing behind her, she saw that Shail had fallen asleep, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

They came to the harbor, and Kari veered the vehicle north on a small coastal road. She drove past tiny cottages on the ocean cliffs. Overgrown weeds grew in the yards, and the houses appeared vacant. After ten miles, man’s imprint on the environment disappeared, and the road became an ill-kept path. She had reached the true wilderness and her father’s estate. With each passing mile, the terrain grew rougher, and the path turned into an animal trail that meandered around massive trees hanging over the ocean cliffs. She maintained her northern trek by following the coastline.

Her grandfather’s hunting cabin rested a hundred miles away and was nestled between the rocky beach and the mountain range. Though she had been very young when she last saw it, she still remembered the wondrous and remote place, reachable only by hovercraft. Few humans would find her and the harpy there.

Her father and Charlie wouldn’t search for her at the cabin, thinking she was too little to remember it and its location, but she had played a secret game with her dying grandfather. When her grandfather became bedridden, he’d pull out a dilapidated map of the western continent and quiz her about locations. She never hesitated to point out his magical cabin. She’d sit on his bed, and they’d reminisce of fishing and jungle adventures when he was well. “I wish you were alive now, Grandpa,” she mumbled. “I know you’d understand and help me save this wounded harpy.” The old man had always embraced her rebellious nature and love of the wild.

The vehicle sluggishly traveled over and around large boulders and fallen trees while thick branches scraped its sides. The old engine whined as it struggled to maintain the chassis’s balance. Even a new terrain vehicle would have difficulty navigating this course. Kari frequently wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and gripped the wheel, pushing the ancient vehicle forward and hoping it would make it to her destination. She was grateful she had given Shail a second sedative. Awake, he would have added to her worries.

The sun began its descent into the ocean, turning the sky a scarlet red. Another hour and it would be dark. Kari increased the speed. Traveling in daylight on the rugged trail was bad, but at night it would be worse, and the cabin was still hours away.

She wondered how she would find the place after fifteen years. When she glanced around the vehicle, it held nothing of value except the old blanket, Shail’s medicine, and the portable com. There had been no time to bring food, water or a weapon for dangerous animals. If they came across a hunter, she couldn’t even protect the harpy. Kari realized how ill prepared she was for the trip. She had no extra clothing, other than her thin bloodstained jacket resting on the floorboards. She looked ahead at the towering black mountains that ran parallel to the coast, making the path steeper and more difficult to navigate. She breathed deeply, determined to cross one obstacle at a time.

The sun slipped into the ocean and the landscape became dark and shadowy, forcing Kari to turn on the headlights. The lights could be seen for miles up and down the coast. She nervously scanned the night sky for hovercrafts. By now her father would have learned from Carol and the others that Kari was with a golden harpy. All his warnings had been in vain. It upset her, knowing the worry and trouble she’d create. Dad has to realize that Shail saved my life, and now I must save his. She lowered the window and listened for a hover, her father’s hover. He’d search for her now. Except for her vehicle engine, all was silent on the starless night.

Kari slowed to a stop and turned on an overhead light to check on Shail. He still slept under his wings. Though drugged and injured, he had surprised her with his strength when he fought entering the vehicle. She saw why it had taken four hunters, two laser blasts, and a severe beating to subdue him. His lofty slender frame resembled an elegant water bird, his girth half the size of a man’s. But Shail’s elfin look was misleading. Under his luxurious feathers and sleek muscles, he was physically powerful. She’d be at his mercy if he chose to breed. Was he capable of rape? She put her faith in her instincts, knowing he’d never hurt her. She turned off the inside light, focused on the drive, and moved the vehicle over the next ridge.

7

Early in the morning John Turner arrived at the wood mill and entered his makeshift lab, off his office. The new batch of insecticide had arrived on a Terrance hover. He poured the yellow liquid into a spray bottle and removed a palm-size black beetle from the holding tank. For a year and a half he had handled the large insects, hoping to discover the correct poison to kill them. The beetle bit him.

“Damn it,” he cursed, jerking his hand and dropping the beetle. It scurried across the floor, opened its wings, and flew against the window screen. He examined the bite and noticed a sizable chunk of flesh missing from his thumb. “This is a first,” he grumbled and treated his wound. He walked to the window and examined the beetle. It looked like the rest of the beetles in the tank. Taking a net, he caught it. “Thought you guys only liked trees,” he said, putting the beetle in a pail with a see-through lid. He sprayed the beetle with the new insecticide and waited. There was no effect. The beetle ambled around the pail. “Damn government, sending me this crap.” He walked out to the mill.

Charlie was instructing another employee when John strolled up to them. “Got an order this morning for ten blocks of the blue,” John said. “Have them trim what we have, and I’ll radio the crews in the north.”

Charlie glanced at the giant bundle of aqua logs. “There is enough for half.” Then he looked at John. “What happened to your thumb?”

John grinned, realizing that nothing escaped the old Indian. “You’re not going to believe this, but one of the beetles bit me.”

Charlie examined the inflamed wound. “That is a bad bite. Lucky they’re not poisonous. Do those beetles have food?”

“They eat better than me,” John said. “Their tank is full of leaves and wood chips.”

“Maybe you hurt it or antagonized it.”

“The damn thing was sitting in my hand, and bit me for no reason,” John said.

“This is very strange,” Charlie said. “Perhaps your hand held the scent of wood, and the beetle became confused.”

“Maybe,” John said, and turned to leave. “By the way, that new insecticide is worthless. I might as well have used water.” He walked back to his office.

Inside, John sprayed a bandage over the wound and went to the lab. The energetic beetle still walked around the pail. John rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He returned to his office and plopped down in the chair behind the desk. He punched in the com key and the screen rose. As Maria appeared, he asked, “Is Kari home yet?”

“No, Mr. Turner,” Maria said, “but she probably still sleeps at her friend’s. Young people party until late. Do you wish me to call the Bakers and check on her?”

“No,” he said. “She was with a group, and I’m sure she’s fine, but call me when she gets home.”

“Okay, Mr. Turner.”

John pushed the key, and the screen dissolved into the desk. He glanced at a picture of Kari when she was a little girl. When he waved his hand, the motion sensor brought the photo to life. “Hi, Daddy, see my caboo?” she said, holding up her little arm and revealing the clinging small creature with reddish fur. “His name is Harry.” She smiled and kissed the animal’s head.

John figured he had watched and listened to the picture a million times, and it still made him grin, but Kari was no longer his little girl. She had matured into a stunning woman, similar to her mother. The past haunted him, and he feared his daughter, like her dead mother, might face tragedy due to a harpy. During their last talk, he learned that distance and time had not smothered Kari’s devotion for the harpies, in particular the golden male. John questioned his decision to let the golden live, even protecting the creature on his land. If he had known then what he knew now, he would have killed the brazen young harpy and ended this threat to Kari.

“If she loves him…,” he said, closing his eyes. “I faced a no-win situation.” If he killed the harpy now, he’d end their relationship forever. “Better she hate me, than lose her to a harpy.”

John picked up the picture. She’s a smart girl, he thought. Maybe I’m worrying needlessly. He wondered how her evening had gone with the young people of Westend. It was a small town, and he was aware that Carol Baker dated Jake, an avid harpy hunter. Perhaps Kari’s peers could convince her to stay clear of the harpies. He rose from his desk and went back to the mill. In a few days, he would travel to the northeast part of the estate and check the crews cutting timber.

*   *   *

The cool morning gave way to a hot and muggy afternoon. John, along with Charlie, supervised the cutting and loading of timber. Robotic machines moved the large logs through the lasers, and the rare timbers became neatly stacked piles of fine boards. John wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s strange Kari hasn’t checked in with me,” he said to Charlie.

“You forget.” Charlie grinned. “She is your daughter and has your stubborn nature. As a child, she rarely checked in.”

“I suppose,” John said. “I’ll call the Bakers’ store when I get to the house.”

Charlie saw one of the men running toward them. “Trouble,” he said. “No man runs in this heat.”

“A swarm,” the man gasped. “A swarm hit east of town. They’re saying some people died.”

John raced to his hovercraft and Charlie followed. They hopped inside, and the hover lifted off before Charlie had shut the door. They flew past Westend, heading east. Before long, they saw the barren patch of dirt encompassing a space of several city blocks. In the center of black soil were the scattered hovercrafts and terrain vehicles belonging to the town residents.

John landed his hover and leaped out before the engine blades had come to a stop. He hurried toward the small group of people, his thoughts focused on Kari. When he approached, the somber crowd became silent. A woman wept in her husband’s arms, as the man consoled her. It was the Bakers, Carol’s parents. John swallowed the lump in his throat and walked past them. The red terrain vehicle stood with its doors open. The once new and shiny transport was covered with beetle waste and full of dents, where it had crashed into trees in a futile attempt to escape the swarm. He stumbled toward it, fighting back his tears.

A man caught his arm and stopped him. “Mr. Turner, you don’t want to see her like this,” he said. The whole town was aware that the special vehicle had been a coming-home gift for his daughter.

John pulled away and kept walking. He looked inside of the gutted vehicle and saw the skeletal remains of three bodies. Two others lay on the ground a few feet away. “No!” John cried, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Turner,” the man said.

“Why didn’t they keep the doors shut?” John uttered.

“Best we can tell,” the man answered, “the beetles clogged the engine and burrowed through the floorboards. These kids didn’t stand a chance.”

Charlie walked up to John and put his arm on his shoulder. “Come away, John. Kari would not want you to see her like this.”

John broke down and cried. “I can’t tell which one is her, Charlie,” he sobbed. First his beautiful wife, and now Kari. There was nothing left to make living worthwhile.

*   *   *

Doc landed his hovercraft and climbed out. A man approached him and said, “They’re all dead, Doc. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Who are they?” Doc asked, walking toward the damaged vehicle with the man.

“Carol Baker and her boyfriend, Jake O’Connell, also John Turner’s daughter. They were in her new vehicle. There’re two others that we’re not sure of. We’re thinking they may be Jake’s buddies, Hank and Tom. The beetles didn’t leave much.”

Doc saw John with his faithful Indian friend, Charlie, near the vehicle. John’s face was buried in his hands and his body shuddered as he wept. Charlie rubbed John’s shoulder, attempting to comfort him. Doc stroked his beard and watched them for a moment. He huffed deeply and strolled to them. “John, I need to talk to you.”

“Leave me alone, Doc,” John stammered. Charlie nodded to Doc and walked away.

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Doc said. He and John’s father had been good friends, and Doc had watched John grow into a powerful man, but now, believing his daughter was dead, he appeared shattered. Doc wasn’t eager to tell John the truth: that his daughter was alive and with a golden harpy. John lowered his hands and his bloodshot eyes stared at him.

“She’s not dead,” Doc said, and John frowned in confusion. “Your daughter is not dead.”

John brushed away his tears. “That’s her vehicle, Doc, and she was with Carol Baker last night. You can’t identify those bodies by looking at the remains.”

“Kari wasn’t with Carol. She was with me.”

“With you? But her vehicle,” John sputtered.

Doc wearily rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but I can’t let you believe that Kari is dead.”

“What is it?” John screamed. “Is she all right? Is she hurt?”