FP-S4: “DR. BAKER! BYRON!” Silence

Sunday, 21 Oct, 2:30pm: Harold, Clive, and Marcus pounded in the last tent stakes when they heard the truck rumble into the clearing then park beside the other trucks. James and Byron climbed out, “We rushed back as quick as possible to help hunt for both Baker and his fossils. Sorry, didn’t want to wait for Ma to gather more supplies. Tried to call the university but no-one there on a Sunday to answer. We can always send a telegram once we have solid news to report.”

Clive was disappointed about the failed call but offered, “Met a hillbilly gal Jane who offered to bring us some stew later. Said she met Baker’s team who showed her some of their fossil finds. She told him about similar bones just laying around out at an old mining town west of here. She even took Baker and Tucker out there to scout around before they returned to camp.” In an uneasy tone, Harold interrupted, “Didn’t trust her! In her 40s claiming to have grown up and lived here all alone. How come she has fresh meat and vegetables to make a stew?” Marcus tried to intervene, “You’re just still rattled finding the other trucks broken. Someone (Clive offered, “Or something.”), tore out the wiring and jammed sticks in as if trying to break parts off.”

Now Byron questioned, “You sure this Jane is alone? Where does she live? Probably her moonshine family discourages intruders which is why she says alone.” James offered, “As for the sticks, they did try to drive further into the woods. Probably snapped off a few brush branches that got tangled under the hood. You’re just getting paranoid. You’ve got the tent up, let’s get your mind off her and try to do some searching for Baker. He’s probably at that mining town now.” Clive spoke up, “Which reminds me. I found this arm-bone in the discarded dirt of Baker’s dig over there. What do you make of it?” James examined it and mused, “Hum. Looks both Therapod and simian. I wanted to say bear since it’s not fossilized but the elbow is hinged wrong. NOW I’m really excited. We still have daylight so let’s try to find Jane’s mining town and hopefully Dr. Baker’s team. Otherwise, we can be back in time for stew with Jane.”

Harold still concerned, “But what about the truck wiring?! Someone tore them out on purpose. They didn’t get tangled in the brush at the forest edge like you suggest with those sticks jammed in there. They could easily disable our truck too.” James tried to reason, “So, we might have to walk back to town. It’ll do you go.” Ten steps into the forest and Byron was already complaining, “Dr. Wrathmore. PLEASE, put that gun away. I don’t need you tripping and that goes off wounding one of us.” As if distracted or jinxed, Harold tripped on a root and twisted his ankle. Bad! And as if to add insult, a squirrel up in the trees began chatting. To Harold it sounded like laughter. “Demons!”

Clive was already nursing a month-old ankle injury of his own; so, it didn’t take much to make him hobble again. Clive offered, “You guys go on. Harold and I will tend camp and protect the truck. If you’re not back in a couple of hours, I’ll start honking the horn at intervals to guide you back.” 30 minutes later and Harold was already on edge, jumping at every sound. Now even Clive starting to jump, “Did you hear that?! Sounded like voices. [It was the wind singing thru the branches and leaves.] Did they give up already and come back?”  He honked the horn as planned but only heard squirrels in reply.

Now Harold poked fun, “Now you’re jumping at shadows and…WHAT THE FUCK?!” A raccoon entered the camp. Most disturbing was it on its hind legs, standing tall and hissing. “Shoo, shoo.” It marched towards them hissing louder. His gun already forgotten, Harold telling Clive to throw something to scare it away. “Keep your distance, it might be rabid!” It wasn’t till Clive hit it that the raccoon dropped and ran into the woods. The damn squirrels chattered with laughter. Scared? Hell yes. Clive and Harold retreated for the truck cab for safety.

James, Marcus, and Byron plodded thru the trees, “Westward toward the other ridgeline other side of Sica Hollow. Only a couple miles she said.” James slid down a small river embankment and paused, “What did she say about the rivers running blood red per Indian lore of their fallen ancestors? There’s your source…that red algae.” Byron studied it, “That’s Rhodophyta per our Botany classes. So much for Indian blood.” The terrain soon began a slow rise and soon they stood on the edge of the forest looking at a long-deserted town. Buildings collapsed from abandonment and the weather. “Only a couple hours till sunset. Sooner in the lower hollow. Let’s make this quick.”

They entered the town looking for clues of Baker’s team, “DOCTOR BAKER!!! Anyone?” Silence. “Let’s poke our heads in a few buildings.” Byron stepped up to the church on the right. Its steeple long collapsed. Weathered, dried, and warping porch boards. “CRACK!” The board broke under his weight, his right leg dropping thru like a rock till his crotch stopped him. “Oooooh.” James tried to stifle his laugh as he helped him up, “Didn’t break the boys did you? I said be careful. Can you walk?” In a female whimper, “Yes.” Byron sat to nurse his pride as the others continued to search.

James to the General Store to note, “Shelves fully stocked. Other than animals rummaging, nothing. As if the people up and left in a hurry.” Marcus walked in the street avoiding the boardwalk in front of the buildings on the left. His eye drawn to the hotel that seemed to weather time the best. Wanting to enter till Byron reminded, “Guys. It’s getting late. Slower going considering my boys aren’t feeling too well.”

“Clang!” Clive and Harold both jumped, “What was that? Sounded like something fell on the truck. Go check it out.” “No, you go check it out. I’m still hobbled.” Clive cautiously circled the truck looking for movement in the forest or in the branches overhead. Stubbing his toe on a rock. “Another coprolite…with etchings. This one has paint on it. And from the dent, I’d guess thrown at the side of the fender. It didn’t fall from the trees. Must be that damn raccoon back to torment us.” And that’s when Harold saw movement in his side-mirror. Jane came into view, “My, my. You boys sure are edgy. Ain’t been in the woods much, huh? Sorry to tease ya. I heard ya hooting and hollering and thought I’d have some fun. I threw the rock. Where’d everyone else get to?”

And that’s when they jumped at more noise coming from the forest. Relaxing when they saw James and the students emerge. Who listened to the camp story and had their own laugh at the others’ expense. Holding the coprolite, James asked Jane, “Where’s you get this one with the markings? This your handywork?” Jane guffawed, “Shucks, you can find them pert near anywhere around. Mostly up around that mine. I heared tell dem miners harvested them for der icy-box. Freezer-ator I heared tell. But why we talking about rocks when I brought stew. Dig in boys.”

Byron thought to ask the ingredients but then realized he didn’t want to know. At least it ain’t spoiled. He hoped. As they chatted, Jane opened up, “Did ya find Baker in town? I told him about that skeleton locked up in that jail. Full body just hanging in them chains inside the cell. And dem poky bumps on its arms and legs and back. Baker all ‘cited. Cha find that? Darndest thing.” Jane overheard Clive and Harold arguing to the others about the noises and rapid raccoon. “Lakota superstition. Injuns think their dead warrior spirits trapped in the trees. That’s their cries ya heared. And why the river bleeds red. As for the coon: ain’t you seen the varmit ever defend itself before? Just big bluffers they is.”

As they scrapped the last of the stew, Jane asked Byron, “Say fella. Ya look a might strong. I hurt my back bringing the pot. Would ya mind coming back to my cabin. Carry the thing and maybe chop firewood fer me? I’d be obliged. Ain’t that fer. Ya could either return tonight or I could take ya to the mining town to meet these fella there.” Everyone else snickered at the all-alone hillbilly gal making a date. “Byron, you stud. Don’t stay up late.” Byron accepted but probably more to get away from Harold’s gun.

And that’s when Marcus noticed, “Our food supply closest to where you stowed those coprolite Byron found earlier, looks more spoiled than the other. Do you think something about those stones is causing the spoilage? Not pathogens like Dr. Hall theorized. Maybe radiation?” James gathered all the coprolites they’d found and stuffed them in a damaged truck glovebox, “It’s not lead lined, but maybe this will do. Meanwhile, let’s set watch to keep the fire going tonight. Help guide Byron home.” Needless to say, it was a restless night for all. Their thoughts of Byron interrupted by the animal calls and snapping twigs out in the shadows. Everyone was on guard duty together as no-one really slept.

Monday, 22 Oct, 6am: “The sun’s coming up. I can’t sleep. Let’s just get to the mining town. Jane did say she’d take him there in the morning if not last night.” They left the tents and supplies, packing the bare minimums. Now that James knew the way, about a 45-minute walk. As they entered the clearing on the edge of town, “DR. BAKER! BYRON!” Silence. Clive noticed footprints (Spot-Extreme) in a muddy patch. James reacting, “Must be Dr. Baker’s team as we didn’t walk over there. Now that we know they WERE here, let’s check the buildings.”

One long set of offices on the left, James entered the 1^st finding a rusty scale and fading sign, “Assayer’s Office.” A cracking blackboard listed the pricing of gold, silver, black rock. “If I read this list correct, they WERE mining the coprolites.” When he entered the back room, he found a fading map tacked to the wall. “Looks like details of their mine with dates they opened each passage. Looks like the mine was started 60 years ago. Shows they breached a cave in June, 1862. That must be the source of the coprolites.”

Marcus was more interested in the supposed jailed skeleton, so he walked the middle of the street hoping to find a ‘Sheriff’s’ sign. Instead, he and Clive saw footprints on the boardwalk of the hotel. Distracted from the jail, they entered and followed the prints up to the desk where Marcus found the open guestbook. “Baker and Tucker actually signed into the hotel. Probably one of Tucker’s playful acts. Let’s check upstairs to see if they actually spent the night.” Harold entered the hotel to remind the others, “Still no sign of Mr. Phillip. Should we try to find Jane’s cabin to see if Byron is OK?”

NEXT SESSION: https://rigglefp.blogspot.com/2020/11/fp-s5-i-say-out-there-this-is-quite-rude.html