Flight of the Golden Harpy (9 page)

*   *   *

The scarlet horizon signaled the approach of night. Kari jumped up, knowing she’d be late for dinner. She gathered the fruit and darted into the woods. By the time she reached the logging road and her vehicle, she was dirty, sweaty, and tired. She tossed the fruit and her laser weapon on the empty passenger seat and hopped into the vehicle. Flipping on the headlights, she drove down the dark, overgrown trail. “Dad is going to be unhappy and concerned,” she agonized. Reaching the highway, she raced toward the estate.

Kari parked the vehicle in front of the house and stepped out. The dogs bounded out of the shadows to greet her. She petted them, not realizing that Charlie was with them. “We’ve been worried,” he said.

She jumped. “Charlie, you startled me,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I was delayed in town.”

“You should have called.”

“Perhaps I dislike coms as much as you.” She smirked.

He glanced into her vehicle. “Your laser gun was needed. It is out of the compartment, and you brought back trisom. They only grow in water, and none is sold in town this late in the season.”

Kari knew she was busted. The wise old Indian should’ve been a detective. “After town, I went to the lake. I had to go. Shail wasn’t there.” She hurried toward the front door to avoid a lecture.

She found her father in his den. “I’m sorry I’m late, Dad. I ran into Carol Baker and was held up. She’s invited me to a cookout tomorrow night.”

“That sounds like fun,” John said, “but I’d appreciate a call next time you’re late.”

“I will. I’ll just need a minute to clean up,” she said. Walking to the foyer, she met Charlie. His arms held the trisoms.

“Should I take these to the kitchen?” he asked.

She lowered her gaze. “I don’t like deception,” she said quietly, “but I’m upset and confused. I need answers, but I don’t want Shail killed because of my dreams or because I went looking for him. Dad told me about my mother’s death, but I still can’t believe that the harpy would harm me.”

“Already, the harm has begun,” Charlie said, and left for the kitchen.

Kari went to her bedroom and climbed into the warm shower. Nothing made sense anymore. The golden harpy was like an addictive drug. Despite the warnings and danger, she longed for him. He had definitely woven a spell she couldn’t break. To protect him, she had become dishonest, like an addict.

Kari dressed and stared at her bed. “When Shail comes tonight, I will tell him that this must end, these dreams must end.” Before long, her father would learn she was still drawn to harpies and that might seal Shail’s fate.

She went down the stairs, and Charlie and her father were waiting in the dining room. Her father’s grin told her that Charlie had not revealed her lake visit.

“It’s great you’re getting reacquainted with your old classmates,” John said, “but I’m surprised you were talking to Carol. As a child, you always avoided her.”

“I’ve grown up,” Kari said, sitting at the table that held assorted fruits, jungle yams, and roast beef. Her father sliced the meat and offered some to her.

“No thanks, Dad,” Kari said. “I still don’t care for meat, but I’d like a few yams.”

“Still a vegetarian,” he said. “So tell me about your visit to town. Did you see Doc, or was he off fishing?”

“I saw him, but he wouldn’t give me anything for sleep,” she said. “He did tell me about the licing moss that the golden harpy put on my mogel bite. Said the moss drew out the poison and saved my life.”

“If they’d sent more scientists to this planet, we’d have known about the moss years ago. Just like these goddamn swarms,” John grumbled. “If they’d put some money into research, I’d have an insecticide that worked now.”

Kari and Charlie remained quiet.

“I’m sorry. I’m a little edgy,” John said. “A swarm hit in the northeast, barely missed the estate. They’re getting closer.” He patted Kari’s hand. “And the mention of a golden harpy is still upsetting. I still worry about you.”

“We won’t talk about harpies anymore,” Kari said.

“That’s not what I want,” John said. “I want us to be open with each other. Keeping quiet has brought too much misery. After dinner, we’ll sit down and talk.”

*   *   *

After supper, Charlie excused himself. He walked outside and the dogs greeted him. He wanted no part of the coming conversation between father and daughter. Would they be honest? He loved John and Kari, but knew their hearts and differences. Though Kari hadn’t admitted it, she still carried a torch for the golden. Ten long years on Earth hadn’t extinguished the flame, and the harpy sought her in dreams, proving he still longed for her. Such a bonding would be disastrous.

Before long, John would figure out his daughter was still devoted to the harpy, and then he’d kill it, ending the threat to Kari. The fragile father and daughter relationship would forever be destroyed. They were too headstrong in their convictions with no middle ground.

Charlie foresaw the coming conflict, and all his advice to John and Kari would fall on deaf ears. He was an old man caught in the middle. He walked through the meadow under a star-filled night. The two wolfhounds walked alongside, wagging their tails.

*   *   *

John and Kari settled in the living room. John poured a glass of wine and offered it to Kari, but she declined. “You don’t like wine?” he asked. “Didn’t they teach you the finer things in life on Earth?”

“Is it a finer thing? You seem to drink more than I remember.”

John seated himself across from her and took a sip. “I suppose I do, but it helps me relax.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’d like to clear the air tonight.”

“I’ve been thinking all day about our morning conversation. It’s understandable why you hate the harpies.”

“I’m as much to blame as the harpy that went after your mother. When I saw him put his hands on her, I was filled with rage. I wasn’t thinking. Normally, I’d have set the gun to stun, and your mother would still be with us. I’ll take this guilt to my grave.”

“Dad, it was just a terrible accident.”

He gulped the last of the wine and stood up. “It was no accident that harpy tried to take your mother.”

“Why do you think he wanted her?”

“To force her to bare his offspring,” he grumbled, and poured another glass. “Those goddamn harpies.”

“Is that what other women have said when they were taken by a harpy?” she asked quietly.

“Other women?” he said, puzzled. “Most women are never seen again. The few that have been rescued can’t speak—their minds are gone. They usually commit suicide.”

“Maybe they’re like men, and there are good and bad harpies.”

“Kari, they’re not like men. They’re wild animals. It’s like saying there are good poisonous snakes and bad ones. They’re all poisonous, all bad, all dangerous.”

“But the golden who saved me,” she argued. “You were even grateful to him.”

“I knew he’d come up. You were a child, Kari, and he was too immature for breeding. His wing length proved he was a teenager and pretty naïve. I still can’t believe that nervy young rooster ruffled his feathers and confronted my men even after a round was fired at him.” He massaged his chin. “He probably saved you and risked his neck since he planned to take you later. It might have been a big mistake, protecting him from hunters all these years.”

Kari grew nervous and changed the subject from the golden. “I heard in Hampton that no women have been kidnapped in a long time.”

“That’s Hampton. The harpies have been exterminated in the east. But this is the outback, and there are plenty of flocks.” He gazed at her with a sudden realization. “You’re trying to come up with excuses to defend these creatures.”

“I’m trying to understand,” she said. “The golden kept me alive. It doesn’t make sense he’d hurt me.”

“He’d hurt you, Kari. That son-of-a-bitch would put you in his nest in a tall tree where you couldn’t escape and then rape you over and over until you lost your mind and were pregnant. You’d be a vegetable, producing his male fledglings year after year.” John drank down his second glass of wine. “That’s what those devils do to women.”

Kari stared at the floor. “He was so gentle. It’s hard to believe he could do such a thing.”

His eyes narrowed, studying her. “You still have feelings for that cocky bastard?” he growled and rose from the chair.

Sick of lying, she didn’t answer.

He paced the room, shaking his head. “Thought you’d meet a nice guy on Earth, thought all this harpy craziness would be gone. Guess everything backfired on me.” His angry tone kept elevating. “Then I stupidly chased the hunters off my property and let the damn golden live, goddamn it.”

“Please, Dad, understand. I can’t change overnight. I was miserable on Earth, and the only thing I had were the fond memories of the harpies. I’m very confused now. I need some time. That’s why I’m going to the beach party tomorrow night. I want to talk to people my own age and ask them about the harpies.”

“Perhaps I should end your confusion and kill that blond buck.”

Kari stood. “I’d leave and never forgive you,” she said with conviction, “and the harpy would be another innocent victim of your rage. If I caused his death, I’d live with the same guilt you carry for Mother.”

John collapsed in the chair and shook his head. “All right, Kari. I’ll give you time. I don’t want to lose you again, but know I’d sacrifice our relationship and your peace of mind if it came to your safety. If that golden comes sniffing around, I’ll kill him.”

“I’m going to bed now,” she said, leaving the room.

*   *   *

Kari crawled into the soft bed, feeling ill. Her honesty might cost Shail his life, but she had difficulty concealing her feeling and beliefs. Despite the consequences, she felt truth was always better. I am bewildered by the harpies and my mother’s death, she thought. Better that Dad knows, but if he discovers my dreams, and the brown harpy encounters … maybe I should leave. She closed her eyes, firmly committed to ending the dreams with Shail.

Kari woke to the sound of singing birds and morning light. She realized that she had no memory of a dream. The golden hadn’t come. “Shail said the spell would be broken,” she mumbled, disappointed and relieved at the same time. She climbed out of bed, dressed, and went downstairs. Maria and her father were in the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t wake you with my dreams,” she said to her father.

“You didn’t wake me,” John said. “I went in and checked the locks on your balcony doors, and you were sound asleep. I have to get to the mill.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “The barges are arriving at the harbor today, and we’re running at full capacity to get the timber out. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be at Carol Baker’s cookout,” Kari said. “I probably won’t be home until late.”

“Call if it’s real late.” He headed for the kitchen side door.

Kari hung out in the kitchen talking to Maria. She saw Charlie working in the small vegetable garden alongside the house. As he weeded a row of tomatoes, she wandered out to him. “The golden harpy didn’t come in my dreams,” she said. “Perhaps this so-called spell is broken. I’m rather relieved.”

Charlie glanced at her. “Your relief tells me the spell is not broken. You worry John might discover your dreams and kill the harpy. Your worry proves the golden still holds your heart.”

“Maybe I’m relieved that I’m rid of him,” Kari voiced. Charlie didn’t respond. His assumption was right. She picked up a rake and began working alongside him. “Besides, Dad learned that I’m still fond of the harpies, but is uncertain what to do.”

“I’m sure you saw John’s anger,” Charlie said, “but it comes from frustration. He wants to protect you, as do I. You travel a foggy path of choices. You are blinded by the fog, blinded about your feelings for the golden. Follow the wrong trail that leads to the harpy and your life will end in tragedy. When the fog clears, when the truth is revealed, it will be too late to turn back. Do not choose the harpy, Kari. He is a handsome creature, but his arms only hold unhappiness.”

Kari nodded. The serenity of the plants and soil consumed them. By late afternoon, the garden was free of weeds, and the new seeds had been sown. She went inside to prepare for the cookout.

By four o’clock she was in her vehicle, heading west toward the coast. She was forced to slow when she came upon a truck loaded with vegetables. It was apparently traveling to meet the barges, destined for Hampton. Westend’s main export was the rare timber from her father’s estate, but the area’s small farms also brought their surplus produce and livestock to meet the barges. The ocean barges that traveled the southern ocean were the cheapest and fastest form of transportation, rather than crossing the continent by trucks or hovercrafts.

The dirt highway ended at the harbor, and Kari was surprised at the growth of additional docks. She passed the box-shaped barges and the men working the loading equipment. Several piers away, the flat barges held brightly colored sheets of lumber. She steered her vehicle toward them. Noisy machines lifted large wood bundles off vehicle transports and placed them on waiting barges. She noticed they carried the name of Turner on their side. She pulled up alongside a man supervising the process. “Is Mr. Turner here?”

“Just missed him,” the man yelled over the loud equipment. “He flew back to the mill. Can I help you?”

“No, thanks,” she said. “I’m his daughter, and I stopped to say hi. I’ll see him later.” The man grinned and gave her a nod. She left the harbor and its smooth shell-covered lot and drove south along the coast on a narrow sandy road. In the distance she saw the little shack sitting off the beach. After a half a mile, she came to the old weathered building. Beyond the shack was a dilapidated wooden dock. Several ill-kept boats were moored to it. She parked next to a few late-model terrain vehicles, apparently belonging to fishermen. After climbing out of her vehicle, she walked through the loose sand toward the building and found it held rusted traps and other tired gear. A fish-cleaning table with a water hose rested against the shack. She turned the handle, taking a sip of cool water, and glanced up at a high pole. Dangling from the pole was a chain and hook used for large fish. A fire pit containing charred ashes was nearby and large, unburned logs circled it for sitting.