The Madman of Black Bear Mountain Read online

  I put my ear up to the door and strained to decipher what the hushed voice was saying. I could just barely piece together one angry whisper—and I immediately wished I hadn’t.

  “It’s too dangerous,” the voice mumbled. “No one knows about the crazy hermit in the woods. . . . I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

  3

  THIS IS YOUR COMMANDER SPEAKING

  JOE

  ALL RIGHT, FOLKS, BUCKLE UP and brace yourselves, because this bucket of bolts is about to go airborne!” Commander Gonzo announced as Frank climbed back on the plane, looking nearly as ill as our teacher.

  I figured Frank was just as nervous as everyone else about flying in the tiny plane with the Commander—with only one propeller, seven seats, and a crazy man in the cockpit, this definitely wasn’t a first-class flight. I couldn’t help being a little excited, though. I mean, talk about a thrill ride!

  Frank tried to get my attention from his seat next to Randall, but Commander Gonzo piped up before he could say anything.

  “Let’s see if this old puddle jumper still has any hop,” Gonzo shouted as the plane started rumbling its way across the field on two wheels.

  The plane picked up speed, bouncing us around in our seats like jumping beans with every bump in the ground. If it weren’t for the seat belts, we’d be ricocheting all over the cabin.

  Jim had his eyes shut and his face was white; Mandy and Melissa had a death grip on each other’s forearms; and Frank was looking out the window back at the lodge with that I hope I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure the world is coming to an end  look he gets sometimes.

  “This better be worth it,” Randall whimpered.

  The wooden fence at the edge of the field closed in on us so fast, I started to wonder if the plane would have enough room to lift off. I wasn’t really worried, though.

  At least not until our pilot shouted, “We’re not gonna make it!”

  All seven of us screamed at the same time as the plane’s wheels lifted off the ground and the tin bird took flight, clearing the fence by mere inches.

  “Whoo-hoo!” Commander Gonzo shouted. “I love that part!”

  He turned around in his seat with a big grin and held out a can of peanuts. “Anybody want a snack?”

  We were all so relieved to be alive, we started laughing hysterically. Although I’m not totally sure about Jim; it was hard to tell if he was laughing or hyperventilating.

  “So is ‘commander’ just a different way of saying ‘captain’?” Mandy asked, scooping out a handful of peanuts.

  “Lieutenant, actually,” he said, pointing to the military insignia sewn crookedly onto his floppy hat. “Flight Commander Gonzo Gonzales, US Air Force, retired, at your service. But you can call me Doc.”

  “Wow, so you’re a doctor as well as a pilot?” Melissa asked.

  “Nah, the boys in my squadron used to call me that because of all the bones I broke flying for Uncle Sam. Said I spent so much time in the infirmary getting patched up, I might as well have a medical degree.”

  “Uh, is it normal to break bones flying an airplane?” Jim asked shakily.

  “It is when you fly the way I used to!” Gonzo replied proudly.

  Jim groaned.

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured our teacher. “I haven’t crashed in decades.”

  Doc tipped back the can of nuts and chugged a mouthful, talking as he chewed. “Can’t say that for some other pilots around here, though. Flying this mountain range can be tricky if you don’t have skills like mine. A little Cessna—the exact same model as this one—went down on Black Bear Mountain right near where you folks are going, as a matter of fact.”

  “I’m never flying again,” Jim muttered.

  “You’re talking about that Russian guy, right?” Randall asked, perking up. “My parents told me about him.”

  “Yup, it was big news around here when it happened about thirty years ago. Aleksei Orlov. Guy had a huge ole mansion with miles of exotic gardens and his own private zoo and stuff downstate. Big-time player in the Russian ‘Mafiya,’ they said. Died in a ball of flames on the mountainside before the Feds got a chance to take him to trial. Turned out he was a better mobster than a pilot, I guess.”

  “I heard that he—” Randall began, but Frank cut him off.

  “Does anybody actually live on Black Bear Mountain? Besides Dr. Kroopnik, I mean,” he asked Gonzo, speaking up for the first time since takeoff. From how nervous he sounded, I guessed he was probably still feeling a little queasy about the flight.

  “You mean like are there any crazy old mountain men stalking about in the woods up there?” Doc Gonzo asked.

  Frank’s eyes went wide. “Um, yeah, kind of.”

  “Sure are!” Gonzo exclaimed.

  All our eyes went a little wide at that one.

  “You hear all kinds of stories about hermits spending their whole lives living off the grid out here because of how remote it is,” he explained. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, though. I haven’t heard about them eating any campers.” He paused to pick a peanut from his teeth before adding, “At least not for a few years.”

  I was about to ask Gonzo to elaborate when the plane crested a ridge and Black Bear Mountain rose into the sky ahead of us. The mist-shrouded summit loomed over all the other mountains below like something out of a storybook. I almost wouldn’t have been surprised if a dragon had appeared and started shooting fireballs at us!

  “Thar she blows!” Doc Gonzo called. “If you had reclining seat backs or tray tables, I’d tell you to put them in their upright and locked positions, because we’ll be on the ground in just about a minute.”

  Gonzo swept the plane down toward a large clearing high up on the mountain. Even higher than that, we caught a glimpse of an old cabin perched atop wooden stilts on the edge of a ravine, overlooking a gnarly set of river rapids rushing down the mountainside below.

  “That must be Dr. Kroopnik’s research station,” Frank said.

  “Yes, that’s the old ranger lookout cabin he’s using,” Jim said. “You see how it has windows all the way around? That gave rangers a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view, so they could spot any forest fires.”

  Luckily, Commander Gonzo’s landing was less terrifying than his takeoff, and we were safely back on the ground in no time.

  “That’s the trailhead there where you’re supposed to rendezvous with your scientist,” Gonzo said, pointing to a path through the dense forest at the edge of the clearing as we finished unloading our gear. “I’ll be back for you in seventy-two hours. In the meantime, if you need anything—well, don’t, ’cause you’re on your own for the next three days.”

  Gonzo climbed back into his plane and was about to close the door when he spun back around. “Oh, I almost forgot. Whatever you do, don’t feed the bears!”

  Commander Doc Gonzo slammed the door, fired up the Cessna, and took off, leaving us Geccos to conquer Black Bear Mountain on our own.

  “Bears?” whimpered Randall.

  “Well, that was interesting,” I said cheerily.

  “I’m just glad to be back on the ground in one piece,” Jim said not so cheerily. “We’ve still got a few minutes until Dr. Kroopnik is supposed to meet us, so we—”

  He was interrupted by the sound of a horse neighing from the woods beyond the trailhead.

  “Huh, I guess that must be Dr. Kroopnik now,” Jim proclaimed. “I bet he’s just as eager to meet us as we are to meet him. He . . .”

  Only he wasn’t. I think we’d all been expecting the esteemed field biologist Dr. Max Kroopnik, PhD, be to your typical nerdy middle-aged scientist guy. But the person who appeared before us, well . . .

  “You must be Jim and his conservation club,” said the beautiful young woman who came riding out of the woods to greet us. “I’m Max Kroopnik.”

  4

  BEAR BAIT

  FRANK

  IT’S NICE TO FINALLY MEET you,” The Gorgeous blonde said as she cli
mbed 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.