by Joe Stanley
seven
He turned to see the Professor looking down at him. He was speechless as his mind jumped from point to point.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” the Professor asked, raising his gaze to the drifting clouds on the horizon. He wasn’t waiting for an answer, he knew the answer.
“My family earned this land several decades ago.” he continued, “As a child I spent as much time here as I did back home. I always knew this place was special for me. I’m not superstitious, of course, but the word destiny seems to fit so well.” He finally lowered his eyes back to Harold.
“As I said, we earned this land. It was the reward for a very unpleasant task. The cave you found is just one of several such places. We could have the land if we cleaned them out.”
“Of course, all that happened long before I came here. Now that my family is gone, I’m the only one left. Every family has its secrets and it’s the job of each member of it to protect those secrets.”
Harold had risen from the mud, slowly inching closer to him. The Professor was old and if Harold was quick, he might get past him, back down the trail to the jeep. He realized the Professor as he knew him was gone, whatever stood there was insane and very dangerous. He could only hope it hadn’t disabled the jeep. He was forced to rethink that plan when the Professor produced a pistol he had been concealing behind his back.
“I won’t let you ruin my family name. I won’t let you ruin my decades of work. I wish there was another way, but I know you won’t… can’t keep quiet about this. I’ll bet, even now, you’re planning a career.”
“No…” Harold began, but he knew that it was pointless trying to reason with the professor. Not knowing what else to do, he began to stall, trying to come up with a plan.
“You won’t get away with it, people will miss me. They’ll come looking for me and they won’t stop until they find me.”
The Professor’s cold expression changed to one of amusement. “Let’s see, you took a jeep out into the wilderness, according to the clerk you were hostile. You must have wandered away from it, off the trails and gotten lost. It will be mentioned that you were anti-social and possibly depressed. The jeep will have been moved somewhere else by then, somewhere safe.”
“It won’t work and you know it!” Harold spat.
Now the Professor’s expression changed from amusement to disappointment. “I thought you were smarter than that. Don’t you realize I’ve done this before?”
“Sure,” he answered, “You and your entire family are accomplished murderers.”
Anger flashed on the Professor’s face, but was quickly hidden by a sinister smirk. Staring down the barrel of a gun is probably not the best time for sarcasm, but Harold still had no plan and still needed time.
“Tell me, Professor, do you find it interesting that nature has selected your family for extinction? Do you consider that to be destiny?”
“That, my boy, is merely coincidence. Still, I’d rather face extinction than wear the scent of poor trash like you do. Do you find it interesting that your parents are statistically more likely to have bonded over the lingering effects of a six pack than out of genuine affection? Did they smell like booze to you, or did you recognize the stench of failure?”
“Do you think that statistics will help you in Hell?”
“I’ve never really thought about it.”
“And you consider yourself a thinker?”
The professor’s eyes widened as if he had been slapped. “You arrogant little piece of garbage. Are you proud of your degree? We laugh about people like you. You don’t even realize the name of the college you attend means more than anything else. In my first year at college, a real school, I did more work than you’ve done in four. You think you’re educated, but you know nothing. I didn’t work my ass off to be compared with throwbacks like you, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stand here and let you question me.”
Harold knew this confrontation was nearing its end, and he had no plan beyond turn and run. He chose his next words carefully, but not from fear. He had stumbled onto a sensitive spot in the murderous, mad professor and if death was certain he wanted his last words to hurt.
“I don’t have any questions, everything is clear. As an educated man you had one responsibility – to the truth. As a student you were to seek it, as an instructor to pass it on. One day the world will know everything about you, how you covered up this slaughter. History might have made you immortal, but now it will forget you as a fraud. You asked me if I recognized the stench of failure, well now sir, I do.”
The Professor’s eyes narrowed in rage, and he thrust the pistol forward, jerking the trigger, which threw the barrel off target. To Harold, the flash was so bright that the sun seemed to go out. He saw the cloud of propellant gases as they expanded in slow motion. He felt himself turn and run. He had made precious few steps when he heard the blast of a second shot and the buzzing hum of the round as it tore through the air somewhere very near his head.
He made it to the forest, hoping to conceal his shape in the thick foliage. Behind him the Professor had recovered from his fury. He was smiling again.
“I thought you were smarter than that, my boy,” he said out loud, “I grew up here, I know this place, every rock, every tree. I know that you’re running into a dead end. I don’t even have to chase you now.”
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