In Limbo (22 page)

             
“I am feeling a little better,” said Tom.  “It's reassuring to hear you talk.  How come you know so much about snakebites?”

             
“She's the local veterinarian, Tom,” said Sam.  “Ginny, do you know that little gravel road that used to be called Possum Squat Road?”

              “Yeah, I believe I do.  Runs right by the old Brenner place, doesn't it?” 

              Sam nodded.

             
“I know the one you're talking about.  Had to deliver a couple of calves out that way. Why?”

              “A long time ago, my Grandma used to take that road and cut across to the highway on it.  It may just save us some time if it's still in decent shape.”

             
“It's in good shape all right.  We shouldn't have any trouble at all.  I was over there just recently.  A couple of the old farms down that way were bought up by someone in Chicago.  They build some sort of corporate retreat.  I can't recall the company's name, but they're from the Chicago area.  Since they'll be flying all their big shots into Springfield and then haul them all
the way here in a limo, they fixed that road up nicely.  They even petitioned the county commissioners to make it a private road and stop all the through traffic.  But the commissioners are local people and a lot of local farmers need that road to access some of their fields.  Then there's deer season!  So the private road deal didn't pass.”

             
The ride was fast and bumpy.  Sandy stayed right on our tail.  I was totally disoriented by now.  Things are different when you're looking backwards.  I was worried about Tom, and I trusted Sam and Ginny to lead Sandy to the interstate and get us on down the road.  I felt completely inadequate.  As a nurse, I should know what to do.  We're always camping, so why was I not prepared for this?  I wanted to cry, but I bit my tongue.  Tom didn't need tears. He had closed his eyes and seemed to relax.  I felt his pulse again and it was still fast and pounding.

             
Ginny made one more fast turn and then came to a stop.  She jumped out.  I turned around to see what was going on.  She walked over to our Blazer and talked with Sandy, gesturing and pointing to her left.  Then she was back.

              “Okay folks” she said to us, “Sandy is headed to the hospital with Ralph, and I hope she'll do okay.  We're off to pick up Sam's car and to see Doc Humphreys.”

             
She accelerated sharply and we were on the way. The road was bumpy and I don't think I would have driven it quite as fast as Ginny did, but I'm sure she was used to that stuff and her truck was prepared for it.  We left one gravel road and followed the blacktop for a short while, and then we turned off again and back onto another gravel road.

              “Sweetheart, I don't want you to get car sick,” Tom said to me.  “Go ahead and face the front, I'm really okay, really.”

             
He was right, of course, as he always is.  I do get carsick easily.  I'd never ridden backwards, and so I wouldn't know if I get sick that way, but if anyone's gonna get carsick, I'm the one!  So I sat with him on the backseat, looking out of the front window.  We had turned off the blacktop and were driving down a hill.  There were lots of big, old oak trees on either side of us.  The road was still gravel, but remarkably smooth and wide.

             
“You're right,” said Sam. “They did fix this old road up a bit.  But where is this corporate hideaway?”

             
“Oh you can't see much of it from this road.  There's just a little road that leads up the hill.  They pretty much kept the farms where they were.  Smart, since utilities were already in place.  The buildings still look old and rustic, but don't let that fool you.  They pretty much gutted everything and rebuilt from the inside.  I kid you not!  One of the old farm houses is now just a couple of big wide open rooms downstairs and a couple of rooms upstairs.  Must be bedrooms, and everyone has its own bath.  The barns have become meeting rooms, and the smaller barns are used as bedrooms as well.  The other buildings are living quarters as well, but only the old Brenner place has the meeting rooms.  It was the only place with a couple of big barns.”

             
“How do you know so much detail?” 

             
Ginny laughed.  “I'm just incredibly curious.  Call me nosy.  I wanted to know why a big corporation would come to this extremely rural area and set up shop.  Why didn't they stick to the cities?  They could have gone to Rolla, Springfield, Jefferson City.  Why here?  So I made a point of driving by a time or two, and I got to talking with some of the people who worked there.  And then one day I just drove over and walked around.  Pretty interesting what they have done.  I wanted to get into the basement, but it was locked up.  I really just wanted to see if I could
borrow some ideas from them for my house.  But they were operating with a different budget!”

              We passed the little road leading up the hill.

             
“Well, now isn't that interesting,” said Ginny.  “Look at those tire tracks, they have been busy little beavers.” 

             
The curve leading from the main road up the hill to the houses showed well-worn ruts where many cars must have come and gone.  Just a few minutes later we bounced onto a blacktop road, and after a moment turned back onto another gravel road.  Shortly we came to a stop where our nightmare had started.  There was the van, just as we had left it.  

             
“Hop out, Sam, and keep up with me.” said Ginny.

              Sam did just that.  We waited until he had his van started and then we took off.  With Tom relaxing, I had crawled up front with Ginny.  Without ever moving her eyes from the road, she punched a series of numbers on the keypad to her car phone.  I heard the ringing.  Cool, I thought, a speakerphone.  As if she had read my mind Ginny said, “When I'm making house calls this truck is my home and my office.  It's safer to use the speakerphone, you know, keep my hands on the wheel.”

             
A male voice said, “Hello.”

              “Hey Humph, you old goat.”  Ginny giggled and winked at me.

              “Ginny, love of my life, what’s up?  Did you finally decide that I'm the man for you?”

             
“You know you are my one and only!  Do you still keep that antivenin around the house?”

              “I sure do, what happened?  You get bit?”

             
“No, not me, a patient. I'm on my way over to you right now.  Just wanted to check first, you know.”

              “Come on over baby, I always enjoy your patients.  Bye now.”

Chapter 3
4

              The two men looked at each other.

             
“Well, I warned you,” said the one with short blond hair, graying at the temples.  “I told you, people in this area would be out and about on weekends. But no, you didn't believe me.  So now you're monitoring the airways, as if anybody in this outback would own a cell phone.  These people are so poor, they probably still use smoke signals.”

              The other man was younger, with thick dark hair, cut stylishly short.  His coat was draped over the back of a chair, and he had rolled up his shirtsleeves.  He held his finger up to his lips and silenced his companion.  Together they listened to Ginny's conversation.

             
“So what do you make of that?”  He asked the first man.  “Sounds to me as if someone is going for medical help for a snakebite victim.  The chopper reported people on the river, said there were at least two parties.  Well, I think one of those people got bit.  All we need to do now is send our people out to monitor the ERs in the area and we'll have our snakebite victim and we'll have the people on the river.  Bingo.”

              But the other man shook his head.  

             
“No,” he said.  “Ginny is the local veterinarian.  I've run into her a time or two.  She drives past here quite a bit, uses this as a shortcut.  She's taking a patient to be treated for snakebite. The vet, bud, the vet!  Her patient is an animal.”                             

                                                *

             
Doc Humphrey lived right at the edge of Muncie.  To call Muncie a town would be exaggerating.  The sign announcing the Muncie city limits gave a population of eight hundred and eighty-seven, and I'm sure that included a few stray dogs and cats.  Muncie was a quaint little place.  We drove straight through the middle of it.  The town square reminded me of an old western movie set with boardwalks and fancy wooden storefronts.  I could envision cowboys on horses.  There was the Muncie General Store and the Muncie Post Office.  There was a diner, a bar and a barbershop.  Finally, at the very end of Main Street, was a small white frame house with a sign: Michael Humphrey M.D.  I looked at my watch, and it had been more than an hour since I learned of Tom's snakebite.

             
Ginny parked directly in front of the house.

             
“Wait here” she said “I'll go get him, he can give us a hand with Tom.”  Sam pulled into the driveway at the side of the house and joined us.

Chapter 35

             
“Ron, Jonathon Brooks here. What news do you have for me?”

             
“Well, Sir, it seems that Mr. Messer was quite upset when he left the base.  He must have stopped at a little tavern along the way and had a few drinks.  Unfortunately he made a few wrong turns, and since he's not familiar with our roads, he overestimated his ability to drive.  He rolled the vehicle.  Some passerby saw it all and called it in to the Highway Patrol, but didn't stick around.  The Highway Patrol notified us, since it was a company vehicle, and I'm waiting right now for a call from the Emergency Room in Holsum.”

              “I'm sorry to hear this, sure hope Mr. Messer is okay.  But drinking and driving?  Are you sure of that?  It just doesn't sound like him at all.”

             
“Oh yes, quite sure.  The Highway Patrol said this witness saw him leave the tavern and he was quite unsteady on his feet then.  Because of the curvy roads, he couldn't pass and was able to see the whole thing.  He couldn't help, because the vehicle went down a ravine.”

              “Well, you and I have preached to our city slickers time and time again to be careful when they get into these little four wheel drive things.  On those curvy roads, they flip in a second. 

             
But that's not what I'm calling you for.  Ron, I've been thinking.  A lot has gone wrong down there, and I will feel a lot better when all those lose ends are tidied up. Our hot shots are not thinking.”  He chuckled.  “I'd like to do some checking of my own, and that's where you fit in.”  He paused.

             
“Sure, I'd be delighted to help you, Sir.  Just tell me what you want.”

              “We know that a civilian was shot by a military patrol, see.  Now I'd like for you to find out if any dead body has shown up somewhere.  Surely you have a contact at the Sheriff's office, someone reliable.”

              “I just happen to have a weekly poker game with the sheriff -- not for money, mind you.  Let me make some calls.  I'll get right back to you.”

             
It took Ron just a little more than 5 minutes to reach the sheriff, and in less than 10 minutes he was back on the phone.

              “Ron here.  Seems the Holsom ER is treating a man for an accidental gunshot wound.  There is a deputy on his way over.  I'll have the name, address and everything else in a little bit.”

             
“Good man!  I knew I could count on you!  We know where the real brains in the company are, don't we?  See what you can find out.  Be discreet and keep me posted.  Oh, before I forget it, do let the others know about Messer.  Perhaps it will get them motivated to think better.  Bye now.”

             
Ron sat quietly for a moment, then dialed another number.

              “Mr. Smith?  Ron here.  I thought I'd let you know that I have news about Mr. Messer.”

             
“Oh yeah?  Did he calm down yet?  When will he be back?  I hope he knows he's leaving us in a real pinch.”

              “
Well, I hate to say this, but he was in a pretty serious accident on his way from the base to the compound.  The Highway Patrol called here, since he was in one of our vehicles.  I'm actually on my way over to Holsum, to the ER to see how he is doing.”

              “Oh wow!  What a bummer!  I'm sure he's okay.  Keep us posted, Ron.  Did you let Mr. Brooks know?”

             
“I'll call him next, just wanted to let you know first.”

             
“That's nice of you.  We need to let his family know too.”

              “I'm sure Mr. Brooks will take care of that.”

              “Well, thanks for the bad news, Ron.  Keep us posted, okay?”

              Dave Smith stared at the receiver in his hand.  Finally he looked up at Jeff Craft,

             
“Ken Messer had a wreck on his way from the base to the compound.  They have him in the ER in some place called Holsum.  Ron will be on his way over there shortly.”

              “Shit!  I counted on him.  I was so sure that once he calmed down he'd be back.  Damn, now we are really up against the wall.  Let's see if we can get some coffee and let's talk.  Is he going to notify Jonathon?”