White Cave Escape Read online

  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 wo
re 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.

  “How did he find us?” Petra asked her uncle.

  Daryl chuckled, wonderingly. “He just came tearing out of the woods and ran over to the fire trucks, barking like a maniac. Then he turned around and bolted straight back into the forest. It was the craziest thing. We went after him, but he wouldn’t let us catch him…kept just ahead of us, barking like a fool the whole time. Then he ran over to this one tree and started nosing around. That’s when we saw a hand coming up right out of the ground. That gave us quite a start, I can tell you!”

  “It was Craig!” exclaimed Petra, “digging his way up through the roof of the Bat Cave!”

  Daryl nodded. “We hauled Craig out of there and it was a few minutes before anybody noticed that Hobart was digging his way down into the hole. We looked up just in time to see his tail disappear. And you know what happened after that.”

  Petra shivered. She remembered.

  “What happened to the bear?” she asked.

  “Hobart must have chased it deep into the caves. All I know is, he came back all tuckered out but very pleased with himself, just as we were carrying Tony and that other boy out of the cave.”

  “Colin,” said Petra. “His name’s Colin. Where’s the bear now?”

  “Probably still holed up down there. I hear the rangers are going to try and tranquilize it tomorrow. They’ll check the animal for injuries, give it some antibiotics, and release it far away from the burn site.”

  “Good,” said Petra. “He’ll have a healthy forest to live in again. Poor bear—it’s not his fault that he was so cranky. I’d feel the same way if somebody burned my house down!”

  A paramedic poked his head inside the ambulance. “Daryl, the other ambulances are ready to roll, but the boys won’t let them leave until they know if Petra is going to meet them at the hospital.”

  Petra grinned. “Of course I’ll be there. They’re my best friends. Besides, somebody has to keep an eye on them. Those guys could find trouble at a knitting convention for retired safety inspectors.” She hopped down from the stretcher and headed for Uncle Daryl’s truck.

  “Let’s go!” she called over her shoulder. “We’d better get to the hospital before Tony accidentally demolishes the ER!”

  epilogue

  New Beginnings

  “So, Uncle D, where are we going?” asked Tony, leaning over the seat of Uncle Daryl’s pickup.

  Five weeks had passed and the summer had ripened into long, languid days washed with brilliant blue skies. Breezes rich with the smell of purple clover and new-mown hay unfurled through the open window as the red and black Ford growled along the narrow country road. Daryl smiled into the rearview mirror at the three boys crammed into the back seat.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said.

  “Aw, come on…give us a hint!” wheedled Craig.

  “We’re going to see a friend.”

  “But we don’t know anybody who lives way out here,” protested Petra, gazing out the passenger window at the remote, rural landscape flashing by outside. She shifted her shoulder out from under Hobart’s drooling jowls. The amiable Newfoundland sighed loudly and slumped forward to rest his chin on the dashboard instead.

  “What’s that place?” asked Shawn suddenly, pointing through the front windshield as the truck crested a hill. Below them, in the distance, a patchwork quilt of paddocks and pastures sprawled out from a loose collection of barns and buildings. As they approached, several pens and wire-mesh enclosures came into view. They seemed to house a bewildering assortment of animals.

  “Is that some kind of zoo?” Petra wondered aloud.

  “It’s a bit out of the way for a tourist attraction,” murmured Shawn as they drew closer.

  The answer came when Daryl pulled through the front gate. A wooden sign hung from the chain-link fence. It read: Atlantic Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation Refuge.

  “What does that mean?” asked Tony. Daryl didn’t answer, but pulled up in front of the main building and shut off the engine. The kids tumbled out of the truck. Just as they did, a man in a ranger’s uniform came out of one of the barns. Seeing them, he hurried over and shook Daryl’s hand heartily.

  “Daryl! Good to see you again!”

  “You too, Paul,” replied Daryl, returning the handshake with a warm grin.

  “Have you brought me some volunteers?” the ranger asked, winking at the kids.

  “I’m sure they’d be happy to lend a hand,” said Daryl. “But we really came to see how your new recruit is working out.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Paul, nodding. “The boy. You know, that kid has been putting in some real long hours around here. Far more than required, actually. He definitely has a way with the animals. He’s in Barn Three if you’d like to say hi.” Paul waved them in the general direction. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run. There’s a stray moose calf causing a bit of a ruckus over in Sackville.” Paul hopped into a green truck. The truck was hooked up to a rather battered-looking livestock trailer. Truck and trailer rattled through the gate with a cheerful honk of the horn.

  Petra turned to Uncle Daryl with her hands on her hips. “Okay. Explain,” she ordered.

  Uncle Daryl chuckled and began leading them along a well-worn path. “Paul runs this place. He and his volunteers rescue lost and injured animals and look after them until they can be returned to the wild.” Uncle Daryl nodded towards a cage holding a raccoon with a bandaged paw. “Sometimes when we’re fighting forest fires, we find animals that have been hurt or disoriented by the blaze. This is where we bring them.”

  Shawn paused briefly by a high, wire-mesh cage. A great horned owl sat perched on a stump. It swivelled its head around, fixing Shawn with a hypnotic, unblinking stare. Next door to the owl, two crows cawed accusingly at them as they passed. Across from the crows, a timid red fox peeked out at them from inside a hollow log.

  “Here we are,” said Daryl, pointing at a red barn with a white number three painted on the door. Petra looked at her uncle questioningly. “Well, go on in,” urged Daryl. “I’ll wait for you back at the truck.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode back down the path.

  “What’s this about?” wondered Shawn.

  Petra shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Come on,” said Craig, pushing the door open. “Let’s check it out.”

  “Are we sure there are no bears in here?” asked Tony.

  After the bright sunshine, the barn seemed dim and shadowy. They stood still for a moment, waiting for their
eyes to adjust. An earthy, musky smell filled the air, mingled with the sweeter aroma of hay. There was a rustling noise and a voice called, “Who’s there?”

  Shawn moved towards an open stall door. He peered inside. Sitting on a bale of straw was Colin. In his arms was a fawn.

  The others crowded into the stall behind Shawn.

  “Colin!” Petra started to exclaim, but the older boy put a finger to his lips. He nodded at the wide-eyed wild baby on his lap.

  “Oh—sorry!” whispered Petra. Quietly, Colin reached down and picked up a bottle of milk. He offered it to the fawn and the young deer sucked at it enthusiastically.

  “So…what are you doing here?” Colin asked, his eyes wary.

  “What are you doing here?” demanded Tony. Colin looked down at the fawn. “Making things right,” he said. “As much as I can, anyway.”

  “I thought they threw you in the slammer,” said Tony, suspicious.

  “Tony!” hissed Petra.

  “What?” said Tony.

  “It’s okay,” Colin said to Petra. “They didn’t throw me in the slammer,” he told Tony. “Although maybe they should have. The judge sent me to counselling instead…and then he sent me to work here.”

  “Wow,” said Petra. She reached out and touched a finger to the velvety neck of the fawn. “Do you like it?”

  A smile spread across Colin’s face. “It’s the best job in the world,” he said simply. The fawn finished its bottle and began nuzzling hungrily in Colin’s armpit for more. Chuckling, Colin set the little creature gently down on its spindly legs and got to his own feet. The fawn tottered off to another corner of the stall and nosed around busily in the straw. The young people watched it in silence for a minute. Colin said quietly, “I’ve decided to study wildlife biology in school. I want to be a ranger like Paul and work with wild animals that need help. I—I want to try and make things better than they are,” he said, glancing at Petra. The fawn wobbled back over to Colin and butted up against his knees. Colin reached down and rubbed the baby’s wide, fuzzy ears.