//------------------------------// // Chapter 27: Facing Fright // Story: Tidalverse: The Fearsome Foursome // by Alden MacManx //------------------------------// Frick and Malala got to the bridge, where they joined Frack, Frieda, Fran and Michie, all of whom were looking northeasterly. The noses of the unicorn and zebra crinkled some at the scent of cooking pork and chicken, but that was soon forgotten as they joined the search for the fly. Frack pointed with a wing. “I see it. Bearing  zero-three-zero, range about nine miles, passing left to right.” “I’m on it, too,” Frieda agreed. “Moving at a good clip.” Frick broke out the bridge deck binoculars and raised them to one eye in his glow, his nose a little wide to use both eyes. He zoomed in on the fly. “Big bug,” he muttered. “Got some sort of gem in its front legs. Sparkly purple in the sunlight.” “If I’m right, that fly is a lot bigger than the ones we saw in Saint Pete,” Frack observed. “I would believe you, bro. You and Frieda, grab radios and track that thing. See where it goes and how close you can get to it,” Frick ordered. “That fright aura could be there, too,” Malala put in. “I don’t feel it now, but I don’t know the range.” “We’re on it, Frick,” Frieda said as she took the bridge radio. She already had her phone tucked into her vest. “Keep in touch, Counselor. Don’t want either of you hurt,” Frick said as they headed down the stairs to the pier for takeoff. While they COULD have taken off from the bridge, there’s always a chance of clonking against the awning or getting tangled in the netting. “Doctor Malala, Fran’s trying to make choweezo!” she said happily, going to hug the zebra’s legs. “Do you mean ‘chorizo’, Michie?” Malala asked, nosing the top of Michie’s head. “Yeah, that stuff! It's gonna be good when it’s done!” Michie said, leaning into the nuzzle. “Chorizo? Think you can pull it off, Fran?” Frick asked. “It’s not going to be perfect, but it will be close. Mi abuela showed me how to do this when I was young. Don’t have all the spices I need, but I think I can fake it well enough,” Fran said with confidence. “May your palate be pleased, then. I’m sure you’ll want to bag at least one more pig before we leave, right?” Frick said with a bit of a forced smile as a puff of wind brought the cooking pork smells right to his nose. “At least one, maybe two. Whatever we can get away with!” Fran said with confidence. “Pork good! So’s sassage!” Michie added with a big smile. “That’s ‘sausage’, Michie!” corrected all three adults simultaneously. “Sassage!” Frack and Frieda flew after the fly, which was flying straight, not fast, towards the Fort Myers airport, the pegasus and griffin easily closing the distance. “I’m not feeling anything yet. How about you?” Frieda asked. “All quiet on the eastern front here. I think that fly is bigger than we are, and bigger than the ones I saw. How can it fly at that size?” Frack asked in return “Same way we do. Magic. It’s staying on course for the airport. That hangar on the north side,” Frieda pointed out as the doors quivered and started to move. As soon as the merest crack became visible to both fliers enhanced sight, the two immediately turned around and headed west at their best possible speed, Frack leaving Frieda behind and opening airspace every second. When Frieda’s senses came back to her, she was closing in on the Deliverance’s location at maximum speed. Carefully, she applied ‘air brakes’, coming to a stop near the boat, then landing on the dock. Fred was the first one to meet her. “You all right, Maw?” he asked. Frieda clung to Fred, shivering. “There is absolutely no way on God’s green earth or the skies above that I am going within five miles of that airport under any circumstances whatsoever!” she said in a shaky voice, but with enough determination that Fred had no doubt at all that she meant exactly what she said. Fred sat down to give her a more stable support. “I won’t ask you to, and if Frick tries, I’ll clout him a good one myself,” he said quietly in her ear. “Where’s Frack?” “I don’t know. He was ahead of me,” Frieda managed to say, shaking hard enough to jar some feathers loose. “If we don’t hear from him soon, we’ll call. Right now, I prescribe some time in a dark cabin with me,” Fred told his wife of forty-plus years. “Sounds good, don’t mind if we do,” was Frieda’s reply. Fred carefully guided her aboard the boat, down to the main cabin, drew all the curtains and laid her down on the big bed before curling up next to her, just holding her close. It took some time for Frieda’s shaking to stop. Frick, still up on the bridge with Malala, Michie and Fran, watched Fred care for his wife. He didn’t say a word as Frieda was led back aboard the Deliverance. For Fred to have to do what he did, Frieda would have to be intensely shaken up, which does not happen often, not in the sixty-odd years they have known each other.  “LaForge to Enterprise, come in, please,” came over the radio. Frick raised his radio. “This is the Captain, go ahead, Commander.” “Captain, I’m a ways out to sea. How far, I don’t know. I don’t see land anywhere near me. Any suggestions?” Frack asked, his voice shaky. Frick looked around, judging the sun’s position in the sky and the direction his brother was going when he bulleted over the boat. “Commander, put the sun to your right, pull for altitude and head east. I’ll see if Bernie can spot you and guide you in. Got it?” he said calmly, trying to settle his little brother down. “Sun on my right, gain altitude, head east, watch for interceptor. Understood, Enterprise. LaForge out,” Frack said before shutting up. Frick put his radio back around his neck and headed down the stairs, Malala following. He found Bernie in the saloon, Foster out checking the fueling system. “Bernie, need you to fly up and out to the west. Frack got himself lost,” he told the thestral. Bernie nodded. “I heard over the pilothouse radio. No arguments, back as soon as I can. I saw Frieda. She’s downstairs with Fred,” she told the captain before heading out. Before taking off, she took a smoke marker from the emergency kit. She set it off at the end of the inlet the Deliverance was moored in, to mark the way back. “You have a very fine crew here, Captain. It’s like you’re family,” Malala observed. “In essence, we are, Doctor. Frack IS my little brother, while Fred and Frieda I have known since before kindergarten. Fran joined us in Nebraska, Foster in Louisiana a month or so back, and Bernie just last week up in Saint Pete. We all know by staying together and pooling resources, we increase our chances of survival,” Frick explained while going to the saloon fridge and pulling out a cold can of Vanilla Coke for when his brother returned. “How long before we leave here?” Malala asked while getting herself some coffee. “I want to say three days before we’re ready and set. Need to finish fueling, reprovision, grab some more stuff from the Wal-Mart, and hunt at least one more pig for the carnivores,” Frick replied as he set the can down on the saloon table. He stopped as an idea hit him. “I wonder- could Havana use a pig? We could get something in trade for a healthy sow piglet,” he mused. “I would suggest you call ahead and ask, Captain,” Malala said drily. “Getting one intact will be hard. KEEPING it intact for the two days or more to get to Havana, even harder. Think about it.” “You may have a point, Doctor. Let me think some more on that,” Frick said honestly before the radio came to life. “Welder Seven to Cornhusker One. Have Cornhusker Four with me and we are returning to base,” Bernie said in flat tones. Frick turned off his radio and used his glow to bring the pilothouse microphone to him. “Copy that, Welder Seven. What is the condition of Cornhusker Four?” he asked. “Film at Eleven on NewsWatch Seven,” was the reply.  Frick gulped and paled a little. “ETA of your return?” he asked. “Fifteen to twenty minutes, max. We’re taking it easy.” “Right. We’ll be waiting. Cornhusker Base out.” Frick said, setting the mic down. “You all right, Captain?” Malala asked. “Maybe. The phrase ‘News at Eleven on NewsWatch Seven’ means she’ll tell me when they get back, and it may not be pleasant,” Frick explained as he went back to the saloon fridge, removed a can of Jolt Cola, opened it and chugged the can in twenty seconds. When he finished, he sat down on one of the saloon chairs. “We’ll find out soon enough.” The zebra and unicorn kept up small talk until fifteen minutes later, Frack and Bernie landed on the pier and walked aboard. For his part, Frack picked up the can of VC, opened it, chugged it, then tossed the can into the trash receptacle in the corner before heading straight down to his cabin. His pupils were constricted the whole time. He didn’t say a word. Frick then looked at Bernie. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a bottle of pureed mango and gave it to her. “Thank you, Captain,” she said as she held the bottle close to her, under a wing, to warm it before drinking. “What do you think of Frack now, Bernie?” Frick asked. “He’s had one hell of a shock, for sure. Let him get some rest, then have Fred look at him. I’m glad he would listen to me. He hasn’t said anything about it,” she reported, looking worried herself. She liked Frack, and seeing him like that disturbed her more than she wanted to admit. “Maybe it would be good if he and Frieda forget about the trauma they went through. I’ve seen it happen. I will have to admit I’m a radiologist, not a psychologist,” Malala said, looking at the table. Frick looked up as an idea hit him. “Psychologist. We know one. Doctor Margo Byrd. We rescued her and her kids when we were in Kansas City. I’ll see about giving her a call later on, if we think Frack needs the help,” he told Bernie and Malala. “Good idea, Frick. Now, do you have any idea how we can keep an eye on the airport, to see what happens next? Two of the fliers, I’m sure, will not want to go there again!” Malala declared. “We have a drone, but the airport is too far away to control or to even get signals from it. A mile or so, no problem,” Frick admitted. “Airport’s a lot farther than that.” He was about to say something more, but Foster came in then, going straight for the coffee pot. “Fuelin’s stable, Frack. I’ll check it again in a couple of hours. How are they?” “Scared out of their wits, Foster. I’ve never seen anyone that scared before,” Frack said. “You have any idea what to do in these cases, Sheriff?” Foster held his coffee mug in his glow as he used a foreleg to rub the large green gem Queen Marie had given him. “You know, ah just might. Fred down with Frieda? Want to ask him a couple of questions befoah ah try anything.” “He is. Can’t hurt to try, right?” Frick said. “Only crime is not tryin’ when you should. Goin’ down swingin’ is okay, goin’ down lookin’ ain’t.” Foster said before taking a big gulp of black coffee. “Didn’t know you followed baseball, Foster.” “Have since I was a kid. My father was friends with Ron Guidry, and he taught me a thing or two about throwing a baseball,” Foster confessed. “Louisiana Lightning himself. Must be why ah can throw a rock or marble so well.” “Why didn’t you try to turn pro?” Frick asked. “One, ah had mah heart set on joinin’ the sheriff’s department, workin’ for mah grandfather. Two, while ah had an accurate fastball, it wasn’t the fastest. Never could get it up over eighty,” Foster explained. “Plus, by my sophomore year, ah was already married with one in the oven.” “You’ve never mentioned that before, Foster,” Bernie said. “Hope your marriage was better than mine.” “Oh, it was. Mahree and I, married thirty years, five fine boys, last count six grandbabies, she was happy. WE were happy. Until the day she didn’t wake up,” Foster said quietly. “Heart stopped in the night. Took two month’s leave, then back to bein’ Sheriff of Rapides Parish. My honor demanded it.” He finished his coffee, rinsed the cup, put it on the drying hook and went downstairs, as the other three just sat, letting the shock of the news pass over and through them. “He’s said he has a personal honor code that gets him through life. I believe it now,” Frick said in low tones. “Doctor MacInnes, back at the hospital, was like that, too. A personal honor code that inspires all that know him. Someone worthy of respect,” Malala said in low tones as well. “Foster just earned mine, I can say that,” Bernie said before sipping her mango puree. Foster, for his part, sprawled on the big bunk in what was technically Fran’s cabin, thinking on what he could do to help Frack and Frieda. He went through the processes he knew, and all he could come up with was that it would take a lot of time to figure out, and he did not know the two well enough to predict how they would respond to his therapy. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and relaxed. He could nap for an hour, trusting his internal alarm clock to wake him when he wanted to. His eyes opened at the proper time. He got out of bed and headed upstairs, his mind whirling at some ideas that had come to him while he slept. “Frick, when Fred wakes up, have him talk to me, please. Ah have a few ideas that ah have to talk over with him,”  “What about, Foster?” Frick asked as Foster made his way through the saloon. “An idea on how to keep the Fly Lord out of ouah manes until we is ready to leave heah. If’n we can find what we need, we can do it.” “What will you need, Foster?” Frick asked. “The biggest garden sprayer y’all can find, enough bottled water to fill it, and about forty pounds of table salt. Spray it through the crack in the hangar door, and he won’t be able to open the doors for a while. Long enough to leave us be,” Foster said, standing in the doorway. “The doctor and I are going on a Wal-Mart run later today. I’ll do some looking. Deal?” Frick told his security officer. “Sho ‘nuff, Captain. Also, grab a couple bottles of iodine. Adding that will be of help,” Foster added before going out to check how the fueling was proceeding. Frick and Malala looked at each other, confused. “What did he mean by that?” she asked. “I can’t say for sure,” Frick replied. “But, my instincts say to trust a sheriff. I trust him. Want to go on a Wal-Mart run? I’ll pull the wagon.” “Sounds like a plan, Captain. What else should we get?” Malala asked. “Camping gear. Even with one on duty during the night, in port, the watchstander can doze on the settee. That will make sleeping up here in the saloon difficult. If the weather is foul, we can work something out, but if it’s nice, setting up a couple of tents outside would be best,” Frick explained. “I’m sure you won’t want to sleep upstairs with the meat, right?” “Point made, Captain,” Malala groaned, her nose wrinkling in remembered disgust. When everyone gathered for dinner that night (which Fran cooked without quibble or question, wanting both Frack and Frieda to sleep as long as they wanted), Foster told them what his idea was. “What ah plan is to mix everything in the sprayer, pressurize it, then spray the salty water inside and in front of those hangar doors. That will keep the Fly Lord inside until the water dries. There should not be a delivery tomorrow, seeing as there was one today, so I should be able to get there and back unscathed.” “You plan on going there yourself?” Frick asked, startled. “If anyone wants to come, you is welcome to. Bernie, if you want to keep an eye on me, remain out of sight of the hangar doors. Frack and Frieda were in front of them, and whatever is inside came out and hit them with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer,” Foster advised. “Ah has protection from Queen Marie.” He brushed his big green gem with a foreleg. “How do you propose to get the equipment there?” Fred asked. “With the good doctor’s permission, ah would lahk to borrow her cart. The strapping arrangement is admirable, and it’s big enough foah the job. Lightweight, too.” “If you think it would help, of course. Are you sure this will work?” “As sure as I am bustin’ into a house to get hold of a hostage taker. Meaning, not at all. BUT, ah will have my version of ballistic armor and an almighty shotgun,” Foster replied with certainty. “Ah’ve been in law enforcement foah a long tahm. Ah’m not goin’ IN unless ah do mah damndest to stack the deck enough fo’ me to get OUT.” “Spoken like a lawman,” Frack said from his place at the table. “Yep, and one other thing. We had best be ready to set sail FIRST thing the next day, right after there’s light enough to see. I’ll do the job mid-afternoon, to allow enough tahm to get there and back,” Foster said before sighing. “Ah wish ah had mah patrol car, but if wishes were fishes we’d all be hippogriffs.” “What’s a hippy-griff?” Michie asked. Fran and Frieda explained, Fran getting a tablet and showing some video of Renee, the hippogriff from Pensacola, and the two hippogriff foals. “So it’s a fishy pony, right?” Michie asked after the lecture. “You can say that,” Fred said in tones that stopped a why-fest from the little kitten. “Okay!” she said, turning her attention to her mashed potatoes. “Captain’s log, Stardate 0/1606.14 1300 hours, Captain Frick recording. “Foster and Bernie are on their way to deal with the Fly Lord, Fred, Fran, Malala and Michie are doing a last-minute Wal-Mart run, and Frack and Frieda are out hunting pigs. They’ve already bagged one and are trying for another. For my part, I’m enjoying the peace and quiet while I have it. Michie is a beautiful, wonderful little girl, with the curiosity of an entire first-grade class wrapped up in one little black-furred kitten. Her constant ‘Why?’ and ‘What’s this?’ CAN strain one’s patience, but her hugs, smiles and love for all of us, especially Fran and Malala, make up for it. “I’ll have to stow the purification gear, then arrange the camping gear storage up on the bridge. Tent’s set up pierside. Fran and Michie camped there last night, allowing the doctor a night’s uninterrupted sleep for the first time in a long time. I get this feeling that Fran and Michie are going to be nearly impossible to separate. So long as both are happy, I’ll keep my nose out of it. “Back to work for me. I’ll be sure to call in later and let you know how it all came out, Sandra. Frick out.” He did the save and send, then went outside to do clean-up. A messy job, but he won’t shirk it. Just because he’s captain doesn’t mean he can’t do the jobs his crew do.  About a mile away from the airport, Foster unhitched from the cart and started adding salt to the water in the sprayer, using the spray nozzle to stir the water to get the salt to dissolve. After getting the salt mixed, he added the two bottles of iodine. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Bernie asked when he was done. Foster sighed as he fastened the cap down, then worked the pump handle with his gold glow, pressurizing the unit. “The one thing ah’m sure about is that this has to be done, to ensure we escape tomorrow mornin’ unscathed. Do ah want to do this? Hell, no, ah don’t want to, but Queen Marie has told me she can protect me from the fright projection. Ah trust her, she trusts me.” “Do you trust yourself not to go into a blind panic like Frieda and Frack did?” Bernie asked. “As a sheriff, you learn about fear. How to know it and how not to show it. Many a criminal has given up because I walked raht up to them and took their weapon out of their hands, or had mah pistol aimed raht between their eyes and showed every indication that ah was gonna put a round there. Show no fear an’ keep them guessin’,” the ex-sheriff explained. “Learned that from mah granpappy.” “You said I should not be in front of the place, right?” “Would be smart. From what we heard from Frack and Frieda, they saw the door start to open, and they fled without hesitating. Why an’ how that happened, damned if ah know for sure. If there are any windows up on the roof, don’t go near or above them. Maybe the walls and doors can stop the fear from comin’ out, but maybe glass can’t,” Foster advised.  “If I suddenly bolt for home, you’ll know why,” Bernie said in tones so dry, dust bunnies shriveled. “Ah won’t hold that against you, Bernie. Now, if I PASS you, be concerned, okay?” Foster countered as he got the cart hooked up to his harness again. “Good luck, Foster,” Bernie said with sincerity as she took off. “Thank you, ah’s gonna need it.” Foster strode up to the hangar doors, trying to decide where to shove the sprayer nozzle in. Pausing some yards off, he took the spray nozzle in his glow and worked the pump handle to get as much pressure as he could in the sprayer. When that was done, he cautiously advanced. A crack started showing between the hangar doors as they started to open. He called upon his link to Queen Marie and prepared a shielding spell against the fright wave. Surrounded in his golden glow, he got to the opening doors and started spraying. “Take that, you son of a bitch!” he shouted, bracing against the waves of fright that seeped through his shield.  Bernie, hovering up above the roof (which had no windows), could hear Foster’s shouts, curses and whatnot from her spot without any problem at all. This went on for a couple of minutes before she heard, “Good buddy, you may get me, but brother let me tell ya, that yer gonna have to catch me first!” Peeking past the edge of the roof, she saw him take the sprayer in his glow, remove the cap and pitch what remained towards the building before he spun, releasing the cart from its hitch, and setting off at a gallop not away from the building, but across it, getting out of the ‘line of fire’ but not slacking his pace. She took off after him, just catching a little bit of the fright beam before the doors shut.