White Cave Escape (14 page)

The bear whirled to face this new, unknown foe.

In the dying glow of the torch, the silhouette of a boy could be just seen, standing at the tunnel's mouth at the bottom of the cave. He was swinging something around and around his head.

WHIRRRRR-WHIRRRRR-WHIRRRRRR-
WHIRRRRRR!

The noise buzzed like a swarm of mutant mosquitoes. The bear bawled in fury.

“Shawn!” screamed Petra. “Look out!”

With a roar, the bear charged.

Shawn waited until the bear had almost reached him…then he let the bullroarer go. It sliced through the air, catching the bear hard just below the ear. The bear bawled in surprise and jerked backwards, sitting down hard on its haunches. Shawn scrambled sideways, snatching up the still-smouldering torch. The bear huffed menacingly towards him, shaking its head in irritation.

“Shawn! Get up here!” cried Petra.

Shawn ducked a swinging paw and stabbed at the bear's gaping mouth with the burning branch. The bear bawled again and leaped backwards, snarling and clacking its teeth. Dodging past the distracted animal, Shawn sprinted up the slope towards Petra.

“Are you okay? Where's Craig?” he demanded breathlessly, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Craig went up there, but I don't know what happened to him!” gasped Petra, pointing to the dark space behind the gypsum boulder. Shawn lunged towards the hidden alcove.

Below them, the bear gave a throaty growl and began to stalk towards them.

“Craig!” Shawn was hollering frantically into the dark space behind the rock.

No answer.

“Shawn, the bear's coming!” cried Petra.

Shawn pulled his head out of the alcove. He turned towards the shuffling, snarling animal and brandished what was left of the torch. Still the bear advanced. Raising his arms high, Shawn threw back his head and yelled.

“
WAAHHHHHHH
!!!”

The bear hesitated. It rocked back a step, curling its lips over a set of dangerous-looking teeth.

“
WAAAAAAHHHHHH
!” Shawn yelled again, taking a step forward.

Another roar thundered out of the shadows—but it didn't come from the bear.

It didn't come from Shawn, either.

It came from the black space above the alcove.

There was a frantic scrabbling, and then a shower of earth and gravel suddenly cascaded down from above. A second later, a big, black, shaggy body exploded out of the alcove. It charged past Shawn, knocking him sideways against Petra, and raced down the cavern floor towards the startled bear.

“HOBART!” yelled Petra and Shawn together.

The Newfoundland didn't even break stride. He flew at the bear, his thunderous, bass battle cry rippling from his throat.

This proved to be too much for the bear. With a frightened bawl, it whirled and bolted down the tunnel, with the enraged dog snarling and snapping at its heels.

Petra and Shawn were left gaping in shock at the place where the animals had vanished.

Before they could say anything, a brilliant white light punched a hole in the darkness above the alcove, and voices were calling their names.

chapter
24
Hellos and Goodbyes

The flashing lights of the emergency vehicles reflected off the low, smoky clouds, lending a disco-ball dazzle to the eerie glow of the twilight sky. Petra sat on the bumper of an ambulance, trying to convince her Uncle Daryl that she was okay.

“Really, I'm
fine
,” she told him for the seventeenth time. “Just some scrapes and bruises.”

But Daryl insisted she wear the oxygen mask for a while longer, anyway—just to clean the smoke out of her lungs, he said.

Petra tried to breathe slowly and deeply as she sifted through the chaotic memories from the past hour. It was a bit of a blur. The images were jumbled and, she suspected, not entirely in order. She remembered Hobart bursting out of the alcove and chasing the bear. She remembered seeing Tony knocked aside like a rag doll. And Colin. What had happened to them? Craig had vanished up the hole like Alice in Wonderland. And then Shawn, appearing out of nowhere. Standing up to the bear, yelling like a demented warrior. Shawn, swinging the bullroarer in the glow of the torch. And a light shining down through the dark. Shouts. Hands reaching down through a hole above the alcove, pulling her and Shawn back up into the light.

Back into the world.

And then strong arms carrying them through a skeleton-forest of charred and smoking trees…

Fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances lined the country road. Petra watched in the twilight as firefighters moved methodically through the burnt-over woods, hosing down still-smouldering brush and checking for hot spots. EMS personnel spoke into radios and walkie-talkies, communicating with emergency workers and volunteers in other areas of the burn site.

Two paramedics walked briskly towards another ambulance, pushing a gurney. The outline of a body lay motionless beneath the blanket. Petra caught a glimpse of bristly brown hair poking out from the edge of the sheet. Tearing off her oxygen mask, she raced over to the stretcher.

“Tony!” She grabbed the side of the gurney and yanked back the sheet. Tony's white face stared up at her. “Hey, watch it!” he complained. “Injured dude coming through here!”

“Tony!” cried Petra. “Are you okay?”

Tony moaned dramatically and rolled his eyes back in his head. “I think this is the end. Everything's… going…dark. Petra!” Tony's eyes suddenly focused and he snatched at Petra's sleeve.

“What is it?” Petra asked, startled.

“I just want you to know, I'm leaving my iPod to you,” Tony told her in a sorrowful voice. “Shawn gets my game system. Craig can have my trading card collection. Think of me when you use them.”

“Tony,” Petra began, a smile playing on her lips. “I don't think—”

“No, no,” said Tony, waving his hand, feebly. “Don't argue. My most valuable possessions should go to my best friends.”

“But Tony,” said Petra. “I really think you're going to be—”

Tony flopped back on the pillow. “I see a light,” he whispered, putting his hand to his forehead. “Does anyone else see the pretty light? Must…go… to the light. I hear music…and someone calling my name…”

“Uh, Tony? The pretty light is coming from the fire trucks,” Petra told him matter-of-factly. “The music is from Daryl's truck radio and I do believe that's Craig calling your name.”

“Tony!” gasped Craig, rushing up. “What's wrong with him?” he asked, turning to the paramedics. “Is he dying?”

“Just a broken collarbone. He'll be fine in a week or two,” a paramedic said kindly. She smiled and patted Tony's fuzzy head.

“Hey—watch the hair!” protested Tony. “Show a little respect for the Boy Who Boxed a Bear and Lived!” Tony glanced sideways at Petra. “Do you think they'll make a movie about me?” he asked.

“Sure,” giggled Petra. “And Oprah will probably want to interview you, too.”

“Oh
yeah
,” said Tony, nodding seriously. “You're probably right!”

Petra turned and almost bumped into Shawn, who had come up behind her and was standing there quietly. He had a blanket draped around his shoulders. His right hand was bandaged and resting in a sling. There was a nasty scrape on his cheekbone, and the gash over his eye was bleeding.

“Hey,” he said.

“Shawn!” said Petra, throwing her arms around him. She took a step back and looked at him critically. “You look awful.”

Shawn gave her a lopsided smile. “I'm okay. Are
you
all right?”

“Sure,” she said.

“I got your message,” Shawn said. “Back there in the cave. That was good thinking.”

“I don't know about that,” said Petra, shaking her head ruefully. “When I drew that arrow, I didn't think I'd be leading you straight to an angry bear. I just wanted you to be able to find us.”

“It worked,” said Shawn.

“You found us just in time,” said Petra with a shiver.

“But how did you make that crawl in the total dark?” Craig wanted to know.

“Very carefully,” said Shawn. “I remembered that we have more senses than just sight, so I followed the sound of your voices. And I held a stick out in front of me to help me feel where the tunnel was going. Still managed to bump my head on the ceiling, though.” He touched his bloody forehead and winced.

The blanket had slipped from one of Shawn's shoulders. Petra reached up and gently tugged the blanket back up around his neck. “You're soaked!” she exclaimed as her hand touched his wet collar.

“Uh, yeah,” said Shawn, sheepishly. “I sort of fell in an underground lake.”

He was shivering, Petra realized. Shawn started to say something else, but suddenly he swayed on his feet.

“Whoa, there!” said Craig, grabbing his brother's elbow.

“Easy!” said Petra, slipping her arm around Shawn's waist as he sagged between them. They eased him into a sitting position on the edge of Tony's gurney just as an annoyed-looking paramedic came jogging over to them.

“
There
you are!” the paramedic exclaimed crossly, wagging a stern finger at Shawn. “You're supposed to be lying down in that ambulance over there being treated for shock and exposure!”

“I had to check on my friends,” protested Shawn through chattering teeth, but he allowed himself to be led back over to the waiting ambulance.

Craig shook his head in mock exasperation. “Leave it to my big brother to come out of a forest fire with hypothermia,” he said with a snort. “Yeesh!”

“Shawn's one of a kind,” said Petra quietly.

Craig nudged Petra's arm. “Hey, check it out. Looks like the police finally caught up with those goons from the quarry.” Craig pointed.

A short distance away, a police cruiser was parked alongside a couple of mud-spattered ATVs. Two officers stood talking to the teenaged drivers. One of the teens looked scared. The other looked angry. As the police officers ushered the boys into the back seat of the cruiser, the angry teen protested loudly, pointing repeatedly at an ambulance parked across the road.

On a gurney next to the ambulance lay a boy.

“Colin!” gasped Petra.

The two large RCMP officers strode over to Colin's stretcher. They spoke to him in serious voices while Colin looked up at them with large, frightened eyes. Then one of the officers bent over Colin and snapped something on his wrist.

Petra gasped in disbelief. “They just handcuffed him to the stretcher!” Leaving Craig, Petra hurried towards the ambulance.

The officer signalled the paramedics, who began lifting the stretcher into the ambulance. Petra rushed over and grabbed the policeman's arm.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Colin's not a criminal. He
helped
us! He saved our lives!”

The officer looked down at her sternly. “Starting a fire is a very serious offense, young lady. A forest was destroyed. Firefighters risked their lives today…” The policeman shook his head. “We have received information that this boy was involved in starting the fire. If that's true, he must face the consequences of the law.”

The officer turned and climbed into the ambulance next to Colin. Petra tugged at the paramedic's sleeve.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked. “The boy, I mean—Colin? Is he badly hurt?”

“He's got some cuts and bruises and a few cracked ribs, but he'll be all right.” The paramedic shut the ambulance doors. The sirens wailed mournfully as the vehicle pulled away. Through its bright back window, Petra could see the big policeman sitting sternly and silently beside Colin's slight and lonely form.

“Petra!”

Her Uncle Daryl was calling her, waving her back over to the ambulance. Petra walked slowly over to him. Suddenly she felt exhausted. Every bone in her body ached.

“I think you better sit down,” Uncle Daryl said, eyeing her critically. “You look just about done in.” He opened the back door of the ambulance and held out his hand to help her inside. Petra sighed. She was too tired to protest. She climbed into the ambulance and was about to flop down on the stretcher when she noticed it was already occupied.

Hobart was stretched out on his back, with all four paws in the air. He wore an oxygen mask too, over his black snout, and looked rather embarrassed about the whole thing. He blinked sheepishly at Petra from behind the mask and thumped his tail apologetically.

“Hobart!” Petra cried, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in the shaggy neck. “My hero!”

The black tail drummed enthusiastically against the stretcher. Hobart rolled over and pushed his head under her chin, trying his best to lick her through the oxygen mask. Uncle Daryl chuckled and gently removed the mask. “I think you're going to be just fine, pal,” he said, ruffling the big dog's floppy ears. Hobart burped affectionately and leaned against him, drooling contentedly down the front of Daryl's jacket.

“You should have seen him, Uncle Daryl,” Petra said, looking at the big dog wonderingly. “It was like a werewolf exploded out of the dark down there. He went after that bear like it was just some overgrown cat!”

Daryl shook his head with an amused smile. “I guess we can add ‘bears' to the list of things Hobie doesn't like,” he said.

“Yeah! No kidding,” said Petra. She paused. “Um… what
else
doesn't Hobart like? If he's going to morph into the Incredible Hobie, again, I want to be prepared.”

Daryl scratched his head. “Well, now that you mention it, I can't think of anything else Hobie doesn't like. Except maybe broccoli.”

“Bears and broccoli,” said Petra, nodding seriously. “Got it.” She thumped Hobart on the back. “You are some bodyguard,” she told him.