Authors: Warren Dalzell
Jack was the first to stand and grab his backpack. “I’ve got plenty of room in my pack,” he announced to no one in particular. “Load me up and let’s move out.”
Jocelyn stood and stretched. “Sounds good,” she said brightly. She was exhausted but didn’t dare show her fatigue. To satisfy her curiosity about her recent find, she “accidentally” kicked the rock under which the gold bracelet lay. Bending down to pick it up, she examined it thoughtfully, as if for the first time.
“Ah, I was wondering where that was.” Endicott took the object from her and smiled. He nodded with satisfaction and added wistfully, “Randrup’s good luck piece.” Despondency crept into his tone as he ran his fingers over the pitted surface. “Aage Randrup. You may recall he was one of my two colleagues who died in our tragic fall of a year ago. He recovered this from the Eviskar dig site. From the moment he found it, he exhibited a profound attachment to it. Viking gold. He wore it on his wrist henceforth, wouldn’t even take it off to bathe.”
“That’s stealing,” Spencer noted. “It’s an archeological artifact. He had no right to just take it like that.”
“You are entirely correct, Spencer. His actions were decidedly improper. Of course everyone knew what he’d done, but…” Endicott heaved a sigh in remembrance of his former friend. “Most of us excused what he did. You had to have known him to understand why. Aage was a proud Greenlander, a complex man who treasured both his Inuit and Norse ancestries. This bracelet, it, well—it represented his Scandinavian heritage, his Viking roots. His attachment to it was obsessive. It was as though he drew some immense inner strength from its presence; it established a link to its former owner, a Norseman of obvious stature due to its size and weight.”
“It was still wrong for him to take it,” Spencer frowned.
“Yes, yes it was,” lamented Endicott, "but Randrup dutifully logged it into our inventory of artifacts. He never hid what he’d done, and we all knew he would care for it better than any museum could. So we let him wear it.” He looked in turn at each of the students. Tears welled in his eyes as he dropped his gaze and stared at the ground. In little more than a whisper he said, “I took it from his corpse, and I want to show it to his next of kin once we get out of this wretched place. I was going to give it to someone who loved him, but you’re right, Spencer. It belongs to the public, and it should remain on display here in Greenland to be forever associated with the fine human being who discovered it.”
Endicott stood and walked to the back of his shelter to take stock of the supplies that were piled there. He regarded the assortment of hides, food stores and wooden implements he’d needed to support his long stay on Eviskar Island. “I need time to assemble the gear necessary to construct a litter to haul your friend Debbie safely up that cliff face.” He shook his head, “Yesterday I may have been a tad overly optimistic about her rescue. The more I think about it, the more I fear it may be too dangerous for a helicopter to lift her to safety given the high winds and the mist above that steep cliff. If the three of you would be willing to carry out the food, and a few provisions, I’ll set out shortly with the other materials we'll need.”
The two older students were itching to get started and needed no further encouragement. “Let’s split the remaining cynodont meat between us,” Jocelyn said to Jack, “and, Spencer, you carry the cycad biscuits, but be careful not to get them wet when we cross the river.”
“I’m staying wit' the professor,” her young colleague announced. “You guys take most of the food ‘an leave enough for the two of us. Doc Endicott is gonna need help carryin’ all this stuff.”
Jocelyn didn’t like the idea of leaving Spencer behind. She figured the best way to coerce him to accompany her and Jack was via a lighthearted approach. “C’mon, Spence, we’re gonna need you for protection. What if Malarkey or some other what-do-you-call-‘em, gorillasaur attacks us? Who’s going to distract him?”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “It’s ‘archosaur,’ ‘an like I said, Professor Endicott may need help. There’s a lot ‘o stuff to bring to help Debbie. I think he’s gonna need me.”
Jocelyn was flustered but didn’t let it show. Maybe Endicott was all right. Maybe, in fact almost certainly, her premonitions about the guy’s mental stability were totally unfounded. She half-heartedly made one last effort to change his mind. “I’m just worried that if we show up without you, Debbie will freak out. She’ll be concerned for your safety.”
Spencer chuckled, “It’s
your
safety I’m worried about. Dr. Endicott has lived here for a year. I’ll be a lot safer wit' him than wit' you.”
“If the lad wishes to accompany me, I welcome the fellowship,” Endicott said jovially. “He and I have much to discuss. You and Jack be careful on your hike to the cliff. It would be best for you to go back the way you came—through the valley, across the river and then up the gentle slope to the northwest. Do you think you can manage that?”
“No sweat,” Jack responded. “I know the approximate bearings and distances we travelled to get here. We’ll just reverse them for the return trip.”
Jocelyn patted Jack on the back and quipped, “I trained him well, Professor. His built-in angle measuring device is well calibrated. We’ll be fine.” Endicott appeared to be in excellent spirits. All concern for Spencer’s safety went away as she and Jack cinched their packs and prepared to leave. “Please hurry, Professor Endicott,” she said as they departed, “Debbie’s life depends on us.”
“Spencer and I will be along shortly, Jocelyn. We’ll take a short cut through the hills to the north. It’s rugged, but lessens the distance somewhat. I suspect we won’t arrive too much later than you will.”
Jocelyn and Jack waved as they rounded the hill behind Endicott’s hut and disappeared into the mist.
For the first half hour Jack and Jocelyn walked with singular purpose. Time was of the essence. Their leisurely breakfast and late start meant that they wouldn’t make it to the cliff before darkness set in, but they wanted to cross the river and camp at higher elevation once the time came to stop. Already the thermometer had hit at least eighty degrees and the air had become much more thick and humid than it was at Endicott’s camp.
“I feel like a sieve,” Jocelyn complained, “like one of those cartoon characters that gets hit with a shotgun blast. When they take a drink it just pours out all the holes. I’ve never sweated like this before.”
Jack regarded her with concern. Something was bothering Jocelyn. She wasn’t just dehydrated; she looked haggard. She was exhausted and cranky, even more cranky than normal, but of course he’d never comment on that. He was certain she hadn’t slept the night before, and he didn’t think it was from worrying about Debbie. “A penny for your thoughts,” he said when they stopped to refill their water bottles from a small stream. “And I mean your
thoughts
. Don’t hold back. What’s on your mind?”
She looked at him and saw the seriousness in his countenance. He wasn’t the usual smiling, upbeat Jack. His eyes were boring into her with evident concern. “Dr. Endicott is weird,” she muttered.
Jack waited for her to elaborate, but Jocelyn merely sat on a nearby rock, closed her eyes and massaged her neck. He wasn’t about to drop the subject. “I agree,” he replied, “but I don’t see why that should upset you so much, keep you from sleeping.”
“I spent hours last night thinking about Endicott’s situation, and a bunch of things don’t make sense.”
“Such as?”
“First of all, he doesn’t seem to be too concerned about Debbie. And he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to get started this morning. You’d think he’d want to get to the beach as soon as possible, you know? After all, he’s been marooned here for over a year.”
“That might not be as abnormal as it seems,” Jack noted. “The fact that he’s been here for so long—that can have all kinds of psychological effects on people.”
“And look how fit he is. The guy faced down a lizard wolf that wanted his kill. And after that we had trouble keeping up with him on the hike to his hut, despite the fact he was carrying a dead forty pound silo-whatchamacallit thingy.”
“A very tasty cynodont,” Jack offered.
“I started thinking how easy it would have been for him to scale that cliff. There are plenty of vines around, and tough pieces of leather. He could have fashioned a strong rope and safely climbed up that steep top part. It’s only about thirty feet and there are good hand holds. A desperate and determined man would have tried it. What would you have done in his situation?”
Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I’d have climbed out, but I’m an experienced climber and anyway, that rockslide he was in had to have been traumatic. That might explain any apprehension on his part.”
Jocelyn shrugged. Jack had a point. He was using logic—sort of—but she was using something more powerful—feminine intuition. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that Endicott was hiding something. She shouldered her pack and motioned for Jack to get moving. Once they were on their way again, she asked, “Did you happen to notice some of the possessions he had in his shelter?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Of course you didn’t. He had a coffee-table-sized book about Vikings and a large cooking pot. Who the heck goes hiking along a rocky ridge carrying books and cooking pots? And I saw an apple core lying under his pack. What about that? It certainly wasn’t something left over from a year ago, and there are no apple trees on this island, no flowering plants, remember? Even if there were, you can’t just drop a seed into the ground and grow, say, a tree that produces Golden Delicious or Macintosh apples. You wouldn’t know what to expect. All modern eating apples are grafted cultivars.”
Jack abruptly stopped and turned around. “Just what are you implying, Jossy?”
“The only ways Endicott could get those things would be to either raid the supplies back at the archeological site or make trips to and from the island. I suspect the former explanation is by far the more likely of the two. In other words, he knows a way out, yet
chooses
to live here. Something strange is going on, Jack, and as for you, you poor guy, you can’t see it because, like all men, you lack women’s intuition, that sixth sense we have when it comes to understanding human behavior. All other indications aside, Dr. Endicott’s behavior and mannerisms tell me he’s lying. He’s hiding something.”
Jack pondered what she’d said. “So I’m clueless and lack intuition, but at least you admit that I’m a man.”
She put her hands on her hips and glowered. “Really?! That’s all you got from what I just said; the fact that I’m aware of your gender?” She pushed past him and continued walking down the trail.
They moved along smartly for some time before Jack said meekly, “I was just kidding.”
Another moment passed before she spoke. Still walking briskly, and without turning around she said, “For what it’s worth, I’ve definitely noticed you’re a guy, okay? A really nice guy. Furthermore, I find you very attractive.”
* * *
“Professor Endicott, I got enough meat ‘an biscuits packed for the bote of us. What other stuff do you want me to take?”
“Ah, good. There’s a satchel in the hut containing several large animal hides. We may be able to use them to fashion a basket in which to carry your friend Debbie. Just how big is she? How tall?”
“She’s about my height, but she weighs a little moah.”
“Good enough. Come sit here while I select what we need.”
Spencer sat just outside the entrance while the Doctor rummaged inside, searching. Moments later he heard Endicott’s footsteps and turned around.
A fraction of a second before impact, Spencer raised his hands to protect his face. Endicott swung the handle of his spear like a baseball bat, aiming a vicious blow at the boy's head. The club knocked Spencer’s hand against his face and the youngster fell to the ground. Endicott stood over his stunned victim with malice in his eyes.
“Wha…what’d ‘ya do that foah?!” Spencer asked in disbelief.
“Good, you’re bleeding. Stabbing you would have been painful—for both of us,” was all the man said. He produced a leather thong and expertly bound Spencer’s hands behind him.
Spencer had a bloody nose. The front of his shirt was gradually turning crimson, and the sweet taste of the blood running down the back of his throat made him gag. The Professor lifted him to his feet and propelled the stumbling and thoroughly confused young man to the ravine into which he had jettisoned the cynodont entrails the previous evening. Upon reaching the precipice, they half-walked, half-slid down the steep slope to the bottom, and then made their way along the stream to the rocks where the lizard wolves had dined only hours earlier. Shoving Spencer onto his stomach, Endicott then bound the boy’s legs together. “I’d taken quite a liking to you, Spencer. You’re a smart young bloke. It’s too bad you have to die.”
“Why?” wailed Spencer. His face was streaked with tears and blood. His nose and cheek were swollen and painful. But the real hurt was psychological. Endicott was someone whom Spencer had looked up to. This survivor, this world expert, had treated him as a kindred spirit, almost as a professional equal. The incredible turn of events had broken Spencer’s heart.