The Chrononauts
Chapter 28: Walter To The Rescue

The Red Baron heard his plane start up and looked out the window as his friend Walter taxied to the end of the runway.

Several men ran out to stop him, but a quick burst from his gun sent them scurrying for cover. The Baron smiled and spoke in German. “Good luck, my dear friend.” He watched the plane disappear into the setting sun.

The clear sky by Weaver’s Needle disappeared quickly. The whole camp looked as the now cloudy sky started to spin counterclockwise. There was a bright blue blinding flash and a bunch of silhouettes fell out of the sky. Moments later, Victoria got up, holding Snowflake to her chest. The two demons flashed out of the fog.

Steve smiled. “First, that damn owl.” He fired a blast of red lightning. Victoria turned her back to protect the white bird and took the shock instead. She fell to the ground, dead. He laughed and yelled, “Now I will kill the rest of you losers.”

He raised his hand and the woman demon grabbed his arm. Steve swore and blasted her. He turned back to kill the others.

John had let go of the eagle and surprised the demon with an angry kick. He held on to him to give the others a chance to escape. An angry Steve swore and tossed him off his neck. John fell backwards into the vortex and oblivion. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Steve turned back in time to see a red triplane with guns blasting coming straight towards him. He screamed. He and the red triplane blasting at him both disappeared into the vortex.

Mrs. B. ran over and picked Victoria up. She was still holding the dead bird in her dead hand. The chief and sheriff were on their knees, panting. Mrs. B. looked pleadingly at them but they shook their heads. The chief whispered, “We can’t change anything from that dimension. We have the wrong type of energy.”

Mrs. B. picked up Victoria and hugged her and the owl. The little stone in her pocket fell out onto the ground. It was hit by the fleeting setting sun and it started to glow. It got so bright that no one could look directly at it.

A black six-foot stick figure emerged from the light. It bent over the owl and touched her. She slowly got to her feet. It glided over to Victoria and touched her. She coughed and started shivering violently.

The figure had an eerie squeal. Mrs. B. hugged it and got a static shock but held on. The bright light dimmed quickly and flickered and became a stone again.

The chief walked over and picked it up gently. He smiled at the miniscule, shiny piece of quartz crystal in his hand. He smiled at Mrs. B. “It took all of its power that it had accumulated over a hundred million years to save your friends. It was a majestic gesture on its part.”

Brady looked at the sheriff. “What about the triplane? And where is John?” The sheriff just shook his head.

Brady looked over at the chief. He reluctantly shrugged. “Who really knows? When two beings from different dimensions interact, one never knows what dynamics come into play.”

A tired Victoria looked up. “My grandfather was here?”

The chief nodded. “He and John saved your lives. He may survive or he may not. If not, he went out in style.” Victoria and Snowflake took the little rock to the base of the highest mountain.

Victoria opened her hand that held the little rock. She directed Snowflake. “Put it on the top where it can get full sun.” Snowflake grabbed it and flew to the apex of the mountain. She dropped it gently where it would get full morning and afternoon sunlight.

The group stayed for three more days to see if Mr. Wonderful or John would come back. Neither reappeared, so they all returned to Lancaster so they could regain their strength.

Heartbroken, Molly went back to work in Boston for a couple months but found she missed the West. She started a practice near an Indian reservation and bought an isolated house on the edge of the desert. She started painting again. She favored landscapes and desert animals but did a portrait of a smiling John for her fireplace.

Molly fed the birds and left them water each day. She placed pieces of meat on an old stone table in the back yard for a family of hawks. One evening at dusk, a black-tailed rattler got onto her porch. She jumped up on her picnic table. A roadrunner appeared out of nowhere and killed it by repeatedly hitting its head on a piece of petrified wood she had on her steps. Over the next month the bird became somewhat tame. It would eat out of her hand. Her Indian friends that she treated in her clinic couldn’t believe it.

She had been there almost a year and had many Indian friends. They threw her a surprise birthday party at her home on her twenty-eighth birthday, which fell on Halloween. She found one of the young children licking ice cream and staring at her portrait of John.

He pointed. “Stikini!”

His mother laughed. “He thinks he saw a shape shifter while he was looking for sunstones to sell. He said he saw a medicine man that can change into an owl and other animals, too.”

The boy said, “He makes jewelry out of local stones. He made me an owl like him.” He proudly held up a white owl with large turquoise blue eyes.

Molly smiled. “I used to know a white owl with blue eyes. She was a magic owl named Snowflake.”

The boy smiled. “I want you to have it, Dr. Molly. You fixed my leg. It will bring you good luck.” She looked at his smiling mother.

Molly’s eyes got watery. She held it up in the light. “Why, thank you, Ookie. This is my favorite present. Thank the Stikini if you see him for me. What does he look like?”

The boy pointed at her picture. “Stikini.”

Molly got home at six the next evening. She added water to the bird bath and filled the feeders with seed. She put out beef and chicken pieces for the owl, hawks, and roadrunner. She watched the owl and hawks eat. They disappeared at dusk.

The roadrunner had showed up late. He was her favorite and he liked raw beef pieces. She fed him four chunks. He saw her little owl on the table, reflecting the rising moon’s light. He tipped his head and poked at it. He grabbed the prize and quickly flew off. She chuckled and yelled at him. “You little crook.”

He showed up late again the next day. She wouldn’t give him any beef and admonished him with a pointing finger about stealing her owl. He squawked and persisted and she felt guilty. She gave him some raw beef. He tipped his head and squawked once before scampering into the mesquite bushes in her backyard and off towards the distant mountains.

The next evening, all the birds had left. Molly was watching the red sun seep into the black mountains. The black cirrus clouds framed the picture. It made her sigh with appreciation. She saw the bushes moving and thought it was a snake or Gila Monster. She was relieved to see her friend, the little roadrunner, pop out. He was carrying her owl. He dropped it on the step and squawked at her and tipped his head. She laughed. “Why, thank you,” she said to the little bird.

She went in the house and brought out some beef chunks for him. He ate and happily trotted off into the bushes. A cold breeze it her and made Molly shiver. She grabbed her owl and retreated to the safety and warmth of the house for the night. She hung the little owl in her bedroom window to catch the morning sunlight.

The silhouette of the owl against the full moon reminded her of Snowflake and the last year’s adventure. She had a restless night and was still tired in the morning.

A gentle breeze hit her face. She tried to open her eyes but the sun was blinding. She turned away and saw the light playing on the wall. The owl’s eyes danced on her bureau. She was surprised the eyes looked yellow, but the sunlight was bright.

She rolled away from the light and closed her eyes. Her logical mind wouldn’t let her sleep. Molly sighed and got up. She unhooked the owl from the window and looked at it closely. It had orange sunstone eyes. It was a different owl but obviously made by the same hand.

She talked to herself. “Where is my owl and where did the roadrunner steal this one from?” She showered and headed to her clinic.

Ookie and his mother were there to have his soft cast removed. Molly checked the x-ray and nodded to his mother. “He is completely healed. So tell me about the Stikini.”

She laughed. “Ookie says he lives on the mountain behind our village. He turns into many animals but mostly owls. He said he makes jewelry from the gems he finds and sells them in Tucson through a pawnshop.”

Molly was shocked to see the owl with blue eyes on a chain around Ookie’s neck. “Where did he get the owl?”

The mother blushed. “He tried to tell me a bird gave it to him but I know he swiped it back from you.”

Molly shook her head. “A roadrunner stole it from my table the other night. I saw it and yelled at him. The next night, the bird brought me back another owl but it had orange eyes.” They both looked over at Ookie, who was happily licking a strawberry lollypop.

She looked behind him at the inky foreboding mountain and shuddered. There were some odd vibes emanating from it. There weren’t the usual early morning birds or movement, just total quiet as if it was waiting for prey to venture too near. Molly let out another involuntary shiver.

At lunch, she walked the two miles to the base of the nearest mountain and looked on the ground for tracks. There were some bird and deer tracks, but no humans. She got home early in the afternoon and put out food and water for the birds to eat.

There were still four hours of sun left and she decided to venture out much further in back of her house and check for roadrunner tracks. She found some but lost them in the rocks. As Molly continued her search, she heard the distinctive sound of a rattler. Immediately, she stopped in her tracks and looked in the direction of the sound.

The snake was directly in her path. Slowly, Molly backed up, hoping to get far enough away from the rattler to be able to turn and run. She didn’t realize that she was dangerously close to a rock outcropping. She fell off the basalt rock and fractured her leg.

Molly grimaced in pain as she realized that she was seriously hurt. She attempted to reach toward a mesquite limb to pull herself up, but stopped when she saw another young rattler ready to strike. Before she could act she passed out from the pain. A hungry roadrunner grabbed the snake’s head as it tried to slither away. It rapped the head against the rock ten times and dropped the limp, lifeless body. The roadrunner noticed Molly and squawked at her twice.

The bird tipped his head and watched as Molly breathed in haltingly from the pain. The bird ran towards the mountain as the sun settled against the horizon. He trotted for a mile and was stopped by a hoot from an owl on a dead scrub oak branch. He squawked at the owl, tipped his head, and scurried off into the dry bushes.

Molly awoke and lay against the rock trying to figure out what to do. She heard a growl and a frightened young coyote ran from behind a bush by Molly. She lunged and grabbed his foot and tucked it behind her body. A mountain lion stepped out and shrieked menacingly at them.

A frightened Molly turned her body to try to protect the young pup from the cat. An owl popped down onto a dried-out log in front of her. He and the lion stared at each other for an eternity. The lion seemed to relax and casually walked over and smelled the pup and a shocked Molly’s hair. The yellow eyes glowed in the moonlight. He licked her face twice and jumped up on a rock and, after a glance back at her, the cat casually disappeared into the night. Molly passed out again.

She woke up to yapping. She sat up quickly and realized she was in her bed. She felt her leg and found a cast. She heard Ookie’s mother laugh at the little coyote protecting Molly. “You didn’t show up this morning, so we came to check on you. We found your little furry friend. What happened to your leg?”

Molly looked confused. “I broke my leg about three miles out towards the mountain. The pup was running from a mountain lion and I grabbed it as the lion came out of the brush. I also saw a rattler. A roadrunner killed it. An owl appeared and seemed to somehow pacify the lion. It smelled the pup and my hair and licked my ear and just went on his merry way.”

The mother looked at the cast. “So how did you get home and put the cast on by yourself?”

Molly sighed. “I passed out in the desert and woke up when you walked in. I have no idea what happened to me.” There were hand-carved crutches next to the bed. Molly went out in the yard with the aid of the new crutches closely followed by the coyote.

She saw pole marks from being dragged on a litter but was shocked to see a large cat’s paw marks that apparently had pulled it and no human prints anywhere. The pup yipped and pushed his way in front of her. He ran, following a scent towards the mountain. Molly called the pup but he ignored her.

She went back inside and got dressed. She went to her clinic for a few hours. She got back home and put out food for the birds. The pup was still gone. A Gila woodpecker, a flycatcher, and some black rails showed up early. The roadrunner and some hawks showed up later with the owl from the night before.

The roadrunner accepted the beef chunks from her hand. The owl just watched. Molly placed meat on the railing and the owl flew down and took it. He turned his head 180 degrees and saw the pup run out of the bushes. He ran up and smelled the beef on Molly’s fingers which he licked. She gave him a couple pieces, which quickly disappeared.

She noticed something shiny around his neck, tied with rawhide. It was silver with red sunstone inlays of the coyote pup. The pup wagged his tail at her as she untied the charm. The owl was staring at her intensely. It started to glow so brightly that she had to move her eyes away.

She turned back and a giant old Indian stood in front of her. “I can get him back for you, Molly. Of course, it will require a minor sacrifice to me as a token of respect.”

Molly looked confused. “You can get John back? Why do you need a sacrifice?”

The Indian chuckled. “Throughout history, mankind has made sacrifices to their gods, for example, the Mayans sacrificed their own children. Ookie or his mother would do, or even the pup.”

Molly was horrified. “I can’t sacrifice a life to get John back. What kind of god are you to need a sacrifice?”

The Indian laughed. “I’m hardly a god, my dear...but I do have powers. I’m going to get your John back and I am going to take all three lives for your disrespect to me. You will have to live with the guilt for the rest of your life. I, Edward, am going to get the sweetest revenge I could have hoped for.” The Indian laughed loudly and vanished in a gust of cold wind. His laughter slowly dissipated into the mountains.

Back in Massachusetts, Victoria was watching Jeopardy. She got an answer wrong and waited for a disparaging hoot from Snowflake. She didn’t get it. She looked over at the owl. She was staring out the window at the western sky.

Victoria whispered to her. “What is wrong, Snowflake?” She heard no answer and just looked at her friend in silence.

Mr. Wonderful and John sat quietly on their little black-sanded island. There were some rocks and a few dead trees. The two men had spent a year together and had become close. They couldn’t talk and wrote notes to each other in the sand.

John watched Walter stare at the dark gray sky for over an hour. He put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. Walter wrote in the sand: Something’s up. Our friend Edward is coming. Walter shimmered and became John. John laughed silently. Walter scratched in the sand: Go hide behind the rocks. Maybe there is hope for us yet. Edward must not see you. A few minutes passed and Edward appeared in the sky. Walter looked at the ground to hide his eyes. Edward grabbed him by his hair and flew out of sight.

Molly was at the wake for Ookie and his mother, who were killed in a landslide with the pup. Molly had given the pup to an excited Ookie for his birthday.

A beaming Edward popped into Molly’s dimension. He planned to drag John to the wake and tell everyone that Molly was the reason the three were dead. He noticed it was harder than expected to tow John along with him. He glanced back and was surprised to see Walter.

He swore. “It will do you no good; I have more power than you.” The chief and sheriff appeared and slowly the trio towed Edward toward the inky black mountain. He resisted but kept getting drawn closer and with an increasing speed and became alarmed. They dropped him on a basalt rock outcrop.

A white wolf appeared and grabbed his arm in its teeth. Screaming, Edward disappeared into the black basalt wall in the mountain. Several days passed.

A red triplane with pontoons shimmered on the edge of the rock wall cliff. Walter jumped in and noticed there were pontoons. The chief and sheriff pushed the plane over the cliff. It fell and suddenly sputtered to life. The wolf reappeared and Walter flew straight at it and disappeared into the invisible vortex.

Walter flew through the dimensions and finally spotted the island with John. He landed on the water next to the island. The demon of the dead president appeared and tried to stop John from swimming out to the plane.

The Glarff noticed the commotion and swam towards the plane. It lurched and got the demon in its jaws and pulled it down into the deep water and devoured it. John dove into the seat face down to escape the Glarff. Walter laughed at his feet dangling in his face.

Later, the plane popped out of the clouds in the Arizona desert. Walter could talk again. He chuckled and told John, “I am afraid pontoons do not work so well in sand and rocks.”

Molly rolled over and had her nose licked by the enthusiastic young coyote. “But, you’re dead.” She showered as best she could. An hour later, Ookie showed up to help her put out bird food. She was in a fog. “I couldn’t have dreamed it all, could I?” Ookie left with the pup. She sighed and halfheartedly watched the news.

The announcer laughed and shook her head. “And under the category of ‘things you don’t hear every day’, we have a report of a crusty old prospector telling the police he saw a red triplane with pontoons crash in the desert.”

She chuckled and watched with a confused smile. “He ran over to see if there were survivors and found no one was in the plane. He told the laughing police that he figured they wouldn’t believe him and cut out the serial number and had it in his burro’s saddlebag. They went to get it and found fifty pairs of ladies eighteenth century era panties.

Molly chuckled and shook her head. She sat out on the back porch. The late afternoon sun was strong. A shadow floated over her every thirty seconds from a high bird floating on the rising hot air. She figured it was the hawk family looking for an early handout. Her friend the roadrunner showed up with the owl. She sighed and struggled with the crutches to get them some steak leftovers and put ice in the water.

She returned and sat in the yard with a glass of lemonade. She watched them eat and the sun disappear. She could see a speck approaching through the blood-red clouds. It was another bird. She could feel her heart beat faster. A white hawk with a red cactus flower in its beak landed on her chair. It dropped the flower in her lap and squealed.

She was surprised to see the bird keep tapping her pitcher. She laughed. “You are a bird. Birds do not drink lemonade.” It kept tapping it and she finally gave in. “I’m only going because I could use the quiet.” She laughed and got herself a cup. She saw the man’s silhouette against the red sky sitting on the porch railing. She started crying and grabbed another glass for her love.

It was April 21, 1918. The Baron’s triplane made a strafing run by the Somme River by Morlancourt Ridge. The morning sun was in his eyes. He made a 180 degrees turn to make a second run and was shocked to be blinded by the sun again. That was not possible. The disoriented pilot turned again and saw an empty field.

Near the field, Victoria was celebrating her birthday and graduation from MIT with a 5.0 grade average. Her police and FBI friends were there, as were most of her grandfather’s weird friends. They heard a plane overhead that was descending next to the cornfield.

The friends were shocked to see a red triplane land. Victoria giggled and yelled, “Grandfather!” She ran out in the field with Larry and Snowflake following behind. Other people came out to the field. Victoria was shocked to see the Red Baron instead. He was shocked but relieved to see Victoria. They talked in German. He was warmly greeted by Walt and his wife.

The group walked back to the party. Victoria saw her grandfather and laughed loudly. She enjoyed a root beer and burger with her grandfather and his friend and her favorite author Edgar Alan Poe.

THE END

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