Wyvern Page #2

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- All right.

- This hurt?

- A little.

- This?

- Oh, more!

- Okay, well, the good news is,

it's only dislocated.

- Uh-huh.

What's the bad news?

- It's dislocated.

I can reset it,

but other than that,

a splint or cast

isn't gonna do much good.

You need to limit your activity.

And I mean limit your activity.

I'm gonna give it a shot

to numb it

before I--

- No needles. I...

I hate needles.

Hmm.

- Suit yourself.

- You always make house calls,

Doc?

I mean,

my hand's got you

that concerned?

- Most of my work's house calls,

actually.

It's old folks that won't come

into town or can't.

So, uh,

guess you heard me talking

to Claire at the cafe.

- Yeah.

Try to mind my own business.

(cracking)

Ah!

(groaning)

- I really like that girl.

- Mm-hmm.

(chuckling)

How's she feel about that?

- Well, you offer a gal a choice

between a New York doctor

and an out-of-work ice trucker,

the doctor's gonna win

every time.

(groaning softly)

- I'm not competing for her,

Doc.

- So you say.

I see the way

you look at her.

- She's an attractive woman.

- My point exactly.

And in a few weeks or months

or whatever,

when you get

your insurance claim

and you take off

in your shiny new rig,

I'm still here.

So is she.

- Okay. Um, say,

thanks for coming by.

What do I owe you?

- It's on the house.

- No, really, you don't have to.

I--

- It's okay. And, uh...

I thought you liked her.

Sorry about the

misunderstanding, all right?

- No problem.

(groaning softly)

(country music playing)

(GPS):
23 miles

until destination.

- No way.

Oh, bingo.

(alarm beeping)

Ooh.

Ah...

(flapping)

(zipping)

Come on.

(flapping)

(roaring)

(dramatic music)

(snarling)

(growling)

(suspenseful music)

(alarm beeping)

(snarling)

(screaming)

(slurping)

No!!

- Yee-haw.

The Solstice Festival

is less than 24 hours away.

Bring your appetite.

The roasted pork butt

is to die for.

(distant screaming)

- Terry!

Terry!!

- Jake, it's crashing!

- Terry!!!

(screaming)

(soft music)

- To the woman who called in

claming to have spotted

the great Alaskan cockatoad

circling high

above Beaver Mills.

The biggest bird you'll ever see

in Alaskan skies

is a bald eagle.

And, believe me,

unless it has the same skin rash

as Thomas's or Hass's minks,

all eagles have feathers.

But Vinyl Hampton really wants

some of whatever you're on.

- Nice, huh?

Gotta love our summer weather.

Early bird catching the worm?

- Yeah, I couldn't sleep.

- Ah, most cheechakos can't.

Not in the all-day sun.

Takes some gettin' used to.

Like not having

cellphone signals,

or not being able to grab

a non-fat, no-whip,

soy mochaccino

frappa-thingy latte

on every street corner.

Ah, truth is, most people

can't get used to it.

Most of 'em move down

to Mexico this time of year.

Yeah,

gets kind of desolate out there,

with most of the town gone.

- You're up early.

Or is it late? I.. don't know.

- Uh, 5:
00 a.m.

Festival day is always busy.

Thought Claire'd be here early

and have some coffee brewin'.

(Jake chuckling)

- I hear you.

Knock yourself out.

- Argh,

that smells like it might.

(laughing)

I think I'd, uh...

take one of those mochaccino

frappa-thingies about now.

(sniffing)

- Whew.

(flies buzzing)

That ain't moose nuggets.

(whooshing)

(flapping)

(snarling)

Ah-ah-ah-ah!

(gunshot)

(distant barking)

- Ah, it's started.

- What's started?

- Festival of crazies.

People get a little...

rambunctious.

- So I heard.

- Susie, shots fired

in the south woods.

I'm gonna check it out.

- Copy, Chief.

- Go for a ride?

- Sure.

- Wouldn't get too excited.

Probably just Farley or Hass

shootin' at moose pies.

Shoulder your weapon out there!

It's Chief Dawson!

(gunshot)

All right, whoever's firin'

that rifle,

you're too close to residential!

- Chief! Chief!

- Hass, put that weapon down.

(groaning)

Hass?

- Just... I-I saw... something.

(stammering)

- Okay, okay, okay.

Calm down.

Let's hear it.

- Something at-attacked me.

I never seen anything like it.

A monster.

- Hass, you been smoking

the dried kelp?

- No! It-it's real!

- What's real, Hass?

Get a grip. What's real?

- It's...

it's... not of this world.

(crying)

- Okay, okay, here we go.

Come on, Hass.

- What are you thinking?

- I'm thinking the sun

can't set fast enough.

Seems to get crazier every year.

- What if something

did attack him?

- Well, nothing attacked him,

Jake.

He hasn't slept in three days

and he's got no mind to be

out here hunting at this hour.

No, tired mind

does things to a man.

- Do you see that?

- Oh.

Oh...

- That's Doc Yates.

- How do you know?

- I just saw him

a few hours ago.

That's the shirt he was wearing.

- Oh, for crying out loud.

I can't believe it.

- Where's the rest of him?

- Good question.

Susie?

- Barnes here.

- We're two miles south of 64

at the Trillings Road crossing.

Send the car

and the clean-up kit.

- What happened, Chief?

- Something got to Doc Yates.

- Yates? I got a call

about his car,

abandoned about 12 miles

east from town,

about 150 feet

off State Road 34.

Gettin' towed right now.

- If his car is there,

what's his arm doing here?

- Hass... what was that

you said you saw again?

- A monster.

Not of this world.

- Yeah, we know, we know.

But where was it?

(dramatic soundscape)

(distant barking)

(phone ringing)

- Good morning, Edna.

Good morning, Farley.

- Hi, Claire.

(phone ringing)

- Happy solstice.

This is the Beaver Pelt Cafe.

Claire speaking...

Yeah...

Well, what is it?...

Okay. Yeah. Thanks.

- What?

- Um, something bad has happened

to the doc.

The chief, he's coming.

He called a meeting.

(bell tolling)

(background chatter)

- Hass...

are you okay?

- No.

- Okay, listen up.

I know you're all wonderin'

what's goin' on.

(several people): Yeah.

- And truth is,

I wish I could tell you.

Right now, Doc is missing.

And I'd be lying if I told you

that the prospects

of finding him alive

are good.

We have us a predator out there.

(people muttering)

- A flyin' one.

- What kind of flying predator?

- Okay, all right, all right,

quiet down.

Hass here says

that he saw something

in the air.

Which is why we need

to take some precautions,

till we better know

what we're dealing with.

In all likelihood,

we're dealing with a grizzly

protecting her cubs.

- Uh, from the air? Up...?

Chief, bears don't fly.

(laughter)

- I know that, Farley.

Only, Hass here says--

- I know what I saw, Chief!

- We believe you, Hass.

- How can you not know

what kind...

I mean... uh...

Chief, how can you not know

what it is?

There's not a lot of predators

around here that

we haven't seen before, right?

- Maybe it was the colonel's

flying moose.

(laughter)

- Okay, this ain't funny!

- I'm not being funny.

- We have got

a dangerous, unidentified

predator out there

and I need you all

to take serious precautions.

- Cockatoad.

- Alaskan...

cockatoad.

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