Powers in the dark and over darkness- Part 41

They touched down lightly, like a butterfly landing on a leaf. Boyer hardly felt the contact the aircraft made with the ground. When she stepped out of the aircraft, there was a channel of water on one side. Far in the distance, on the other, was the beautiful sight of Mt. Baker, its white peak catching light, the snow reflecting the sun against a perfect blue sky.

A man in combat gear appeared with a droid beside him and greeted the Governor. “We’ve recovered him from the strait. His vitals are good. He seems to have been attacked by some sort of carnivore. Something big.”

More scars, Boyer thought.

“Take us to him,” the Governor said.

They walked down an incline, short but steep, toward a flatter area where a temporary encampment had been set up. Most noticeable were the canvas sheets erected on poles that created an A-frame over the clearing to block the area from any satellite or drone in the sky. A portable medical crate had been set up underneath it. It was about the size of a shipping container, but its walls were made of thick canvas, not steel.

“He’s in here,” the man said and stopped at the door.

Boyer followed the Governor inside. Except for the canvas walls, the inside of the space looked like a hospital room. A human doctor stood in field scrubs. A medidroid stood beside her. The doctor nodded her head in greeting when they entered.

“Status?” the Governor asked.

“Stable,” the doctor said. She stepped toward the bed at the center of the room where Father Diez lay, asleep. His torso was raised and he was covered by a blanket. His arms were exposed, with wires connecting him to a machine that stood nearby, delivering liquids through a tube, intravenously.

“He was unconscious when we found him, and cold. Not near hypothermia, but he was in shock. Quite dehydrated.” The medidroid held up a tablet that showed the vitals alongside a series of pictures that outlined the sequence of events that led to Father Diez’s arrival in the mobile medical room, from the moment he was rescued from the dinghy and airlifted. They then showed the doctor overseeing a team of droids once he arrived in the room.

The screen showed a closeup of the foot. Dried blood and gauze. A large wound. The foot was swollen and a mashup of fleshtones, bruising and blood.

“That looks like it was treated.”

“Roughly.”

“Self-administered?” the Governor asked.

“Hard to say,” the doctor replied. “Definitely some basic field medicine. We had to really get in there and clean it. There was severe damage to the lateral plantar artery and so I took time to repair it. He’s lucky he didn’t bleed out and that he still has a foot.”

“Some sort of attack?” Boyer asked. “I’ve seen animal bites before. This is big.”

“I’m guessing a Grizzly,” the doctor said.

“Are they native to the Island?”

“No,” the droid responded. “But they’ve been known to swim the strait for food. But it’s rare.” The droid’s facial features disappeared and were replaced by an article from a source online that answered Boyer’s question, with images of Grizzly and Black bears.

“So what do we think happened?” the Governor asked. “He gets jumped by a bear on his way back? What happened to the boat we sent him on?”

“There’s no aerial footage within 2 miles of shore,” the drone replied. The images of the bear were replaced by two aerial photographs splitting the shape of its face. The images were divided along the line where its nose would be. One image showed Father Diez paddling toward the Island, his back to it, his face toward the US mainland. His arms were outstretched, he was about to heave the oars towards him, a picture of vitality and energy. The image beside it showed him in the dinghy, his body filling the bottom of the inflatable raft, hugging a single oar, unconscious and diminished. His knees were curled toward his chest.