Blind Panic (24 page)

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Authors: Graham Masterton

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BOOK: Blind Panic
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But Tina shook her head and said, “No, it doesn’t. We’ve seen them, too, Tyler and me, in Hollywood. We actually saw them blinding some kids who were trying to steal stuff from people’s houses.”

“Do you have any idea who they are? Or what they are?”

“None at all.”

“Maybe they’re like aliens or something,” said Jasmine. “You know, like
War of the Worlds.

“I guess they could be,” said Tyler. “They sure don’t
look
human, do they?”

Auntie Ammy put down her window and called, “Little fella’s gettin’ hungry, Jazz!”

Jasmine said, “Okay.” Then she turned back to Tyler and Tina. “We could give you a ride, if you like. It’s not like we were heading anyplace special.”

“We’d really appreciate that,” said Tyler. “With this knee, I don’t think I could have made it to the next town, let alone San Francisco.”

They climbed up into the cab. It was cramped, with the four of them, and the baby, too, but Tina shared the passenger seat with Auntie Ammy and Tyler sat on the floor with his back against the dash. Jasmine started the engine and they drove off northward.

“What are you calling the little guy?” asked Tina. The baby was staring up at her, fascinated, and playing with the button on the front of her sweater.

“I didn’t think it was my place to name him,” said Jasmine. “If I can’t find out who he is, though, I guess I’ll have to.”

“He looks like a Mikey to me,” Tina suggested.


Mikey?
” said Tyler. “That’s a terrible name. Give the poor little fellow a break, will you?”

“All right, what would
you
call him?”

“Frank.”

“Frank! That’s even worse!”

Auntie Ammy said, “If we are to give him a name, we should call him Peter, after Oggún.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oggún is a Santeria god—what we call an orisha.”

“So why are we going to call him Peter?”

“Because that was Oggún’s secret name. When the slaves
from West Africa were first brung to this country, they were forbidden by their masters from worshippin’ their own orishas, so they gave them the names of Catholic saints instead. Oggún was worshipped under the name of Saint Peter. Oggún is ’specially suitable for this poor little fella because Oggún is always there when cars crash, and blood is shed.”

Tyler said, “I never heard of that before. But Peter, that’s a good name. What do you think, Petey?”

“Petey” abruptly burst into tears.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-THREE

Modoc County National Forest, California

“Would you fasten your seat belt, please?” said Ranger Butowski.

“I can’t find my buckle,” said Cayley.

“It’s right there, honey, down by the side of your seat.”

Cayley groped for it, but she still couldn’t find it.

“Right there,” said Ranger Butowski, growing impatient.

“I can’t see it,” Cayley told her. “I can’t see anything. I’m blind.”

“What?”

“We’re
all
blind, all four of us.”

Ranger Edison turned around in his seat. “What do you mean, you’re
blind?
Are you kidding me?”

“It’s true,” said Charlie. “It happened to us yesterday.”

“Hey, get serious. You could see us clear enough when we were landing.”

“We could, yes. But we don’t know how that happened. We all held each other’s hands, and while we were holding hands we could see. But as soon as we let go, we went blind again.”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” said Remo. “I don’t even believe it myself.”

“You know that people have been going blind all over the country, coast to coast?” Ranger Edison asked them.

“You mean it’s not just us?”

“Uh-uh. It’s been a pandemic. Airliners have been crashing
‘cause the pilots have gone blind. People have been stepping into traffic and getting themselves killed, and there’s been literally thousands of auto wrecks. We picked up three other fishermen yesterday afternoon, and some birdwatcher just after sunrise this morning, and
they
were blind, too.”

He picked up his radio microphone and clicked it on and off. “Not only that, all communications have gone down. We lost all radio contact with our headquarters in Alturas about a half hour ago, and we can’t raise any of the ranger stations. I don’t know. Myself—I reckon it’s solar flares that’s responsible. Unusual surface activity on the sun.”

He pressed the LongRanger’s starter button and the rotors began to turn. “Don’t you worry,” he added. “We’ll get you to a doctor soon.”

The helicopter tilted upward, and Ranger Edison angled it over the river. They were less than fifty feet above the ground, however, when three figures appeared through the smoke from the smoldering Winnebago.

“Hey, Jim—there’s some more people down there!” said Ranger Butowski. “We should make sure they’re okay!”

“How many?” Remo shouted, over the noise of the engine.

“Three! Why, did you see them before?”

“Guy in a black suit, with a hat, and two funny-looking dudes with white faces and horns on their heads?”

“That’s right. Jim—why don’t you take us down again, so that we can check they’re not injured?”


No!
" yelled Remo, and he was almost screaming.

“What’s the problem?” asked Ranger Edison.


It’s them! They’re the ones who made us go blind!

“What? What are you talking about?”


Just get out of here, man! Quick!

But Ranger Edison said, “I’m sorry, son. It’s our duty to take care of anybody in the park who might be in trouble. We have to talk to them, at least—check out they don’t need any assistance.”

“Don’t!” shouted Mickey. “They could make you go blind, too!”

“Hey, just calm down, okay?” said Ranger Edison. “This won’t take long.”

He pulled his cyclic stick and the helicopter made a tight turn over the river, kicking up concentric circles of spray.


Please!
” begged Cayley. “You have to believe us! How are we going to get out of here if they make
you
blind, too?”

But the helicopter was now sinking slowly back down to the parking lot, and Infernal John and his two stilt-legged companions were walking toward it.

“Are they still there?” asked Remo, anxiously.

“They’re still there,” said Ranger Edison. “But don’t panic. We’ll just check that they’re okay and then we’ll hightail it right out of here. And if they give us any trouble—I have a Remington Model Seven right under my seat here.”

“For Christ’s sake, dude! A gun’s no goddamned use! All they have to do is
look
at you.”

The helicopter was only ten feet off the ground now. Infernal John raised both his arms, and dazzling blue-white lights started to jump out of the eyes of his two companions.

“What the Sam Hill—?” said Ranger Edison.

Ranger Butowski clapped her hands over her face. “I can’t see! Jim, I can’t see!”

Remo banged his fist on the side of the cabin and yelled, “
Go-go-go-go-go! Go!

This time Ranger Edison didn’t hesitate. He swung the helicopter around on its axis and simultaneously lifted it almost vertically upward. He carried on climbing until they were almost level with the top of the promontory, and then he turned it northward, following the Pit River. They all clung tightly to their seats, feeling as if they had left their stomachs down in the parking lot.

“Margot?” said Ranger Edison. “Margot, are you okay? Tell me you’re okay!”

“I can’t see!” wept Ranger Butowski. “I can’t see anything! Only black!”

“Jesus,” said Remo. “Didn’t I
tell
you to get out of there?”

“Just keep it shut, son,” snapped Ranger Edison.

“Oh God,” said Ranger Butowski. “What am I going to do?”

“Stay calm, okay?” Ranger Edison told her. “Soon as we get to Alturas, I’ll find you an eye doctor. These kids managed to see us momentarily, didn’t they? That means you haven’t lost your sight for good.”

But Ranger Butowski continued to sob as they flew northward, with their shadow leaping and jumping ahead of them over the hills. Mickey and the rest of them stayed quiet. They were all bruised and exhausted, and there was nothing they could say that would make Ranger Butowski feel any better.

After they had been flying for about five minutes, Ranger Edison said, “Who were those guys? And what were those flashing lights? Were they lasers?”

Mickey said, “The guy in the black suit told us his name was Infernal John. He’s an Indian.”

“An
Indian?
So who were the other two guys?”

“We don’t know. The guy in the black suit told us their names. Tuddy-something and Tubby-something. But they weren’t real people.”

“What do you mean, they weren’t real people?”

“They just weren’t. It was like they were made out of wood.”

“I see,” said Ranger Edison. He glanced back at Mickey over his shoulder. “Sure they were.”

He didn’t ask Mickey any more questions. He tried his radio. “State Park Ranger Edison, calling Alturas HQ! State Park Ranger Edison, calling Alturas HQ, come back!”

He waited, but there was no reply, only a loud, persistent hiss. Ranger Butowski was whining now, the sound coming from the back of her throat, like an injured puppy. “I won’t be able to see my sister’s kids anymore. I won’t be able to work, or drive, or watch TV, or
anything.

“Hold on, Margot. We’ll be there in another ten minutes.”

They kept on flying in silence. It was obvious that Ranger Edison wasn’t interested in discussing Indians in black suits or wooden people with white faces and antlers. Either he thought they were lying, delusional, or else he simply refused to think about it.

“Alturas Municipal Airport dead ahead,” he said, at last.

But just as he began to angle the LongRanger toward the airport, he said, almost inaudibly, “
No!
” and the helicopter lurched and bumped and spun around, the sound of the engine rising and falling with a screech like a band saw cutting through trees. Cayley and Ranger Butowski both screamed, and the boys shouted out, too.


What’s happening?
” Cayley squealed. “
What’s happening?

The helicopter spun around a second time, but then it steadied, and the engine’s sound returned to normal. Ranger Edison said, “It’s okay. It’s okay! Don’t panic! We’re going to be fine!” but he was babbling, and he sounded close to hysteria.

“What’s happening, dude?” Remo shouted. “What the hell’s wrong?”

“It’s okay! I’ve gone blind, too, but I think I can get us down!”


What?
You’ve gone blind, too? Jesus!”

“We’re all going to die!” wailed Cayley. “We’re going to crash and we’re all going to die!”

Ranger Edison said, “Listen, listen! Alturas airport was right up ahead of us, less than two miles. I can fly forward for a couple of minutes and then take us down. If I take it real slow, we should be okay.”

“But we were spinning around and around in circles," Charlie protested. “How do you know we’re still flying in the same direction?”

“I’m pretty sure we went all the way through three hundred sixty degrees. So we should be heading roughly the same way.”

“How sure is ‘pretty sure’?” Charlie asked him, his voice
so high that he sounded almost like a girl. “How roughly is ‘roughly’?”

“I don’t know. Pretty sure, that’s all. And pretty roughly, too.”

They flew unsteadily forward, with the helicopter dipping and waltzing as Ranger Edison tried to keep it headed in a straight line. Ranger Butowski counted out loud to a hundred, and then she said, “That’s it—two minutes! We should be over the airport now!”

Ranger Edison adjusted his collective lever until the helicopter was hovering, and then, very gradually, he took it down. Cayley said, “Dear God, please don’t let us die. Dear God, please don’t let us die. Especially don’t let us get burned to death. Whatever happens, please don’t let us get burned to death.”

“Will you do us all a favor and shut the fuck up?” Remo told her.

The helicopter sank lower and lower until Mickey thought that they must be nearly down on the airport runway. Ranger Edison took it down a few feet more, but then there was a loud scraping noise underneath the helicopter’s belly, and they were all thrown violently to the left. With a scream of power, Ranger Edison took them up again.

“What was that?” said Cayley. “I thought we were going to crash.”

“Tree,” said Ranger Edison tersely.

“We can’t be over the airport, then, right?” said Charlie.

“No, son. We’re not. To be honest with you, I don’t know where the hell we are. But hold on, I’m going to try again.”

He flew ahead for another hundred-second count, and then he took the helicopter down again, even more cautiously this time. Even though he was blind, Mickey closed his eyes tightly and tried to picture his home and his family and his black Labrador, Jet. For some reason he had believed when they threw themselves off the promontory at Infernal Caverns that some miracle would save them, but now he was totally convinced that they were all going to die.

Ranger Edison took the helicopter down so gradually that it hardly felt as if they were descending at all. But then they felt a bump as the right-hand skid hit the ground, and Ranger Edison immediately took them back up.

“That was a slope,” he said. “Felt like a hillside, or maybe a roof.”

He flew on farther, and tried to land for a third time. This time, with an earsplitting creak and a splintering of branches, the helicopter came down on top of another tree. Cayley was openly crying now, and Remo said, “Come on, man, for Christ’s sake. Just get us down, will you?”

“We’re still full of fuel,” said Ranger Edison. “If we crashland, then your girlfriend here has every right to be worried that we’re going to burn up. What I suggest is, we keep on flying until we run dry.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Remo retorted. “We don’t even know how high up we are. We could run into a mountain, anything. How far can this thing fly?”

“About three hundred fifty miles, a little over.”

“We could end up in the ocean, for Christ’s sake!”

“Look,” said Ranger Edison. “We’re all blind, so we don’t have very many options open to us, do we? I could keep on trying to land, but it’s way too dangerous with nearly a hundred gallons of fuel on board.”

“But when all of that fuel runs out, we’ll still crash!”

“We won’t just drop out of the sky, son. I’ll put the rotors into autorotation and we should be able to glide down.”

“I think it’s the least dangerous alternative,” put in Ranger Butowski. “If we come down on a tree or a mountainside, and the tanks are still full, we won’t stand a chance.”

Cayley said, “Please. Let’s do what you said. I don’t want to get burned alive. One of my boyfriends was in a car wreck and he got burned alive.”

Ranger Edison took the LongRanger up higher and then increased their forward speed. Mickey knew that at any second
they could collide with a tree or a hill or an electrical tower, but he took some morbid comfort in thinking that they would all die instantly.

“Us rotor heads have a formula,” said Ranger Edison. “We call it the pucker factor. The more risky the situation, the more of the seat cushion gets sucked up your ass. The formula is S equals suction, H equals height above ground, I equals interest in staying alive, and T equals technical trouble.”

“Thanks,” said Remo. “I really needed to hear that.”

“I’m trying to lighten things up a little,” Ranger Edison replied. “We’re all still alive, aren’t we? We’re all in one piece. Let’s try to stay that way.”

They kept on flying for nearly three hours. Even though they were aware that they could be unexpectedly killed at any second, the monotonous beating of the LongRanger’s rotors eventually lulled Cayley and Charlie and Mickey into sleep. Remo couldn’t sleep at all. He sat with his head bowed down in case he had to assume the crash position, wishing that this nightmare were all over, one way or another. It was the endless, seamless darkness that depressed him the most—the thought that even if they did survive, he would be totally blind for the rest of his life.

Without warning, the helicopter’s engine began to stutter and blip. “That’s it!” said Ranger Edison. “We’ve run out of gas! We’re going down!”

Cayley and Charlie and Mickey all woke up. The engine had cut out altogether now, and Ranger Edison disengaged the main rotor so that it would windmill, and start the helicopter on a downward glide. They were jolted and buffeted by the slipstream, and it felt to Mickey as if they were dropping out of the sky like a brick, but Ranger Edison shouted out, “We’re coming down good! Textbook autorotational landing, less’n we hit something untoward!”

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