The Madman of Black Bear Mountain (3 page)

I
T'S NICE TO FINALLY MEET
you,” The Gorgeous blonde said as she climbed gracefully down from her horse.

We were all still too stunned to reply.

“But you're a, um, you're a . . . ,” Jim fumbled.

“Yes?” she asked, letting him squirm.

“Well, what I mean to say is, well, we were kind of expecting—”

“You're not a dude!” Joe blurted.

“I'm glad it's that obvious,” she said with a laugh, winking at Mandy and Melissa. “Thankfully, that's usually a mistake people only make before they meet me. Maybe it'll help if I reintroduce myself.”

She extended her hand to Jim. “Dr. Max ‘Don't you dare call me Maxine' Kroopnik. Nice to meet you.”

“Jim, um, M-Morgan,” Jim stuttered as he shook her hand. “It's, uh, very nice to meet you too, Dr. Kroopnik.”

“You can just call me Max,” she said.

“Okay, Max.” Jim grinned goofily. “I like your bag!”

Max gave him a quizzical look.

“I mean your backpack,” he said, pointing to the tan rucksack slung over her shoulder. “You have good taste.” There was an awkward moment of silence before he proudly lifted his own identical tan rucksack. “See? We have the same bag!”

“Huh, what are the odds?” she said, sounding less impressed than I think Jim had hoped. If I didn't know better, I'd think our teacher might already have a little crush on our scientist.

“I think it's great that you're a girl,” Mandy said.

“Me too!” Max agreed.

“I mean, with so much gender inequality in the scientific community, it's inspiring to see a woman making as big of an impact as you are,” Mandy elaborated.

“Oh, um, yeah, thanks,” Max mumbled, like she was embarrassed by the compliment.

“Thank you so much for inviting us to come out here to assist with your research,” I said. “We're huge fans of all the great conservation work you've done.”

“Yeah, uh, actually, I have some bad news for you,”
she said, not meeting our eyes. “Something has come up and, well, I'm not going to be able to let you help with my research after all.”

I felt like I'd been sucker punched in the gut. No research?

“B-but you said in your letter—” Jim stammered.

“I'm sorry about that, but I have some very important work to do, and I'm just not going to have the time.”

“But can't we at least just observe?” I pleaded.

“We won't get in the way, we promise!” Mandy chimed in.

“I'm sorry to have to let you down like this, but it's just not possible,” Max said.

“This is bogus!” Randall protested. “My parents spent a ton of money for us to come out here so I could tell colleges I worked with you.”

“What, you want a recommendation or something?” she asked Randall, sounding relieved. “Fine. Leave me your addresses and I'll send recommendations for all of you. You've gone to a lot of trouble to come out here. It's the least I can do.”

I couldn't believe it! Dr. Kroopnik was really serious about not letting us work with her! We'd come all the way to see her and she thought it was cool to just send us packing with a stupid letter as a consolation prize? Sure, I was still a little freaked out about the “crazy hermit” stuff I'd overheard back at the lodge, but conducting field research with a renowned scientist was too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, it was silly to get worked up over a garbled snippet of a conversation I'd
probably taken out of context anyway. And like Joe said, the Hardy boys never back down from a challenge.

“I don't care about a college recommendation,” I said to Max. “We came here because we wanted to learn from your experience as a field biologist.”

“Sorry, kid, it's not going to happen this time,” she said sympathetically. “I can help you guys set up camp for the night nearby, and then I'll use the radio at the research station to call the plane back for you first thing in the morning.”

“What?” Joe sputtered. “We don't even get to stay and camp?”

“Don't worry, Joe,” Jim said. “I'm not getting back on that plane a second sooner than I have to. Just because we won't be able to help Dr. Kroopnik with her research doesn't mean we can't still make the most of our time here.”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” she said. “I really think it would be better for everybody if you just left in the morning.”

“Like you said, we've gone to a lot of trouble to come here,” Jim reminded her. “And I don't intend to let my kids down any more than necessary. We've got three full days' worth of provisions, and I've got plenty of great science projects I've been itching to put to the test outside the classroom.”

“But—” Max tried to protest, but Jim cut her off.

“Thank you, Dr. Kroopnik, but if you can lead us to our campsite, I can take it from there.”

We followed behind Max, who led her horse along a narrow deer trail through the dense forest. With no visible landmarks to help get your bearings, it would be easy to find yourself lost in the woods if you wandered off the winding trail.

We may not have been able to assist her like we'd planned, but I was still hoping to pick Dr. Kroopnik's brain during the little time we did have with her.

“I was really impressed with your last article in
American Scientist
, and I was wondering what kind of methods you used,” I said.

“Methodical ones,” she quipped.

I was trying to figure out if she was brushing me off or just pulling my leg when Mandy called out from behind us.

“Hey, guys, look at this!”

Mandy leaned over by the side of the trail, where she'd spotted a tiny, cool-looking orange-speckled salamander sitting on a leaf.

“Hey, Max, what kind of salamander is this?” she asked.

“A little one,” Max said, barely glancing back. “Now let's get a move on. We're burning daylight.”

“Wait a second,” I said, leaning down next to Mandy to get a better look. “That looks like one of the endangered salamanders from your study on population decline in mountain-dwelling amphibians. I can't believe we saw a live specimen! They must be making a comeback.”

“Huh, yeah,” she said absently as she peered over my shoulder. “Good eye, kid. I'll be sure to make a note of it.”

She clicked her tongue to get her horse moving and resumed guiding it down the trail without looking back.

Mandy and I exchanged a
what gives?
look. Max was obviously distracted by whatever important new work she was doing. I guess when you study this stuff for a living like Dr. Kroopnik did, seeing another endangered salamander just seems like no big deal. It was still pretty disappointing that she didn't share our enthusiasm, though.

Dr. Kroopnik led us off the trail along a twisty path through the woods to an open space beneath a canopy of tall trees with a fire pit in the center of it.

“You'll set up camp here,” she said. “We don't have much daylight, so you'll want to get your tents up and start gathering wood for the fire.”

Max knew her way around a campsite, I'll give her that. She moved faster than the rest of us put together, and with her help we had our tents up and a fire burning in no time.

Randall had skipped out on most of the hard work and was sitting on a log, roasting a hot dog on a stick. When the last dog in the package was gone, he carelessly tossed the wrapper over his shoulder.

“Pack it in, pack it out, Randall,” Melissa chastised him, reminding him of the conservationist camping motto to always take your trash with you in the wilderness.

“And remember what Gonzo said about feeding the bears,” Joe added. “You don't want a big old black bear following a trail of crumbs to your tent and mistaking you for a weenie.”

Responsible camping practices may not have motivated Randall, but the thought of turning into a meal for a hungry bear sure did. He had the wrapper off the ground quicker than you could say “late-night snack.”

“That's right!” I said. Joe may have been joking, but he reminded me of one of the most important rules of camping in critter country. “We almost forgot to hang up all our food off the ground so the scent doesn't lure any bears into camp during the night.”

“For real?” Mandy and Melissa squeaked in unison.

“Black bears rarely pose a threat to people,” I informed them. “But they are opportunistic scavengers, and their sense of smell is one of the most acute on earth, so it's best not to tempt them with the promise of a free meal when you're in their territory. And I'm guessing Black Bear Mountain didn't get its name by accident.”

That sure got everyone's attention. There wasn't a speck of food left anywhere in camp by the time we were done bundling it all together. Joe and I got to work suspending the bundle ten feet off the ground between two trees with rope, like we'd been taught in wilderness survival boot camp.

“So what about that plane crash?” Randall, who had once again managed to avoid lifting a finger while everyone else did the work, asked Max.

The question caught Max off guard, and she eyed Randall suspiciously. “What plane crash?”

“You know, the one from a long time ago with that Russian mobster guy,” he said. “It was near here, right?”

“Yeah!” Joe jumped in, turning to our teacher. “Jim, can we go explore the crash site? How cool would that be?!”

“I have to admit, despite my fear of flying, I am curious,” Jim agreed. “Do you know where it is, Max?”

“Ha!” she scoffed. “That's just what I need, a bunch of kids wandering around lost in the woods, mucking up my research. I don't mean to be rude, but if you insist on staying, I suggest you stick to your camp. It's a lot safer.”

The light had started to fade quickly, giving the woods an eerie glow as the sun disappeared. I'd managed to put the thing I'd overheard about the crazy hermit out of my mind, but Max's comment about the woods being unsafe had me feeling unsettled all over again.

“You haven't heard of any, like, hermits or anything living in the woods around here, have you?” I asked tentatively.

Max looked up from the fire, fear flashing across her face. Uncomfortable silence descended on the camp as she stared at me for a lot longer than I liked. When she finally spoke, she sounded dead serious.

“In these mountains, it's not the bears you have to worry about eating you.”

I
T WAS LIKE DUSK SUDDENLY
got two shades darker as soon as Max spoke. She was the second person that day to reference hermits and cannibalism in the same sentence. I'd assumed Gonzo had only been joking on the plane when he'd mentioned hermits eating campers, but it sure didn't sound like Max was.

The rest of us shut up and sat down on logs around the fire. Max took her time, firelight flickering across her face, distorting her pretty features as she shifted her gaze from one Gecco to the next like she was sizing us up to see if we were ready to hear what she had to say.

In the silence, the sounds of the wilderness around us seemed to come to life—and not in a good way.

AARROOOOOOOOOO!

Shivers shot straight down my spine as the high-pitched howl of a hungry beast pierced the evening. Randall practically jumped off his log, and the Ms clung to each other for dear life. The sun had set and the coyotes had risen.

Max laughed, but there wasn't any humor to it.

“It's not the coyotes you have to worry about either,” she said. “Take a seat. What I'm about to tell you just might save your lives.”

We were already hanging on every word.

“I love a good campfire ghost story.” Jim chuckled nervously.

“Some stories are more than just legends,” she said, fixing him with a hard stare before shifting her gaze to me. “You know that plane crash you were so eager to see?”

“Uh-huh,” I gulped.

“Well, there's a reason they never found any survivors.”

“The Russian guy burned up in the crash, right?” Randall asked timidly.

“That was the official story,” Max said. “What they wanted people to think so they wouldn't be scared off. But not everything about that crash made the news. You see, in places like this, out here in the middle of nowhere, the local economy relies on people like you who pay good money to escape the city for a little fresh air and outdoor fun. Well, let's just say the local authorities know when something isn't good for business. And who wants to go camping or fishing or hiking when they know there's a bloodthirsty—” Max stopped midsentence and took a deep breath.

“But I'm getting ahead of myself,” she said, leaving us hanging so close to the edge of our seats, I nearly fell off.

“What they didn't tell the press is that they did find forensic evidence—just one small piece,” she continued. “A single charred bone fragment from a human toe. From the way the bone had been chewed on, they could tell that its former owner had been hungrily devoured.”

“It was probably just scavengers getting an easy meal after the poor guy died in the wreck,” Frank said, trying to reassure us with the most logical explanation before Max got a chance to hit us with whatever awful punch line she had in store.

“Sure, that's what they thought too,” she said. “Until they got it back to the lab and examined the tooth marks more closely. The victim had been eaten by a wild beast, all right. Only this wild beast had human teeth.”

All six of us gasped at the same time.

“Locals had always suspected there were still mountain people living in the remotest parts of the woods. Hikers had been disappearing for years, and there were rumors that they'd fallen prey to a feral beast of a man known as the Mad Hermit of Black Bear Mountain—campfire stories, as you quaintly called them,” Max said, turning to Jim. “But it wasn't until they found that gruesome piece of gnarled human bone that people realized the legend of the Mad Hermit was real.”