Meet At Joe's

8 Looking for John Galt Part 2 Wild Geese and Nasty Varmints

POV: Lupin

Bout time they gave me a crack at tellin' this tale. Not that Joe and Chuck and the rest aren't doin' a good job. It's just that they can get caught up in all that computer stuff. I don't really understand that stuff. And that third person omniscient whoever the hell he is, I don't know how he knows all the things he talks about, but he keeps insisting on doing it his way and then he starts singing. I don't care about his regrets.

Yeah, I may not be as smart or know as much as the rest of them, but what I do know is character. I know John is okay in my book and that Agent Fink, well, let us just say he is aptly named. So, I felt obligated to thwart Fink's efforts anyway I could, and now I'll tell ya about our little hike.

As we headed from Joe's toward the woods that come right up to the edge of the shopping center's parking lot, I was thinkin' ta myself where should I begin? I couldn't decide if I wanted ta just wear this guy out, get him hopelessly lost, or get him killed. I was leanin' toward the latter, but he wuz a Fed after all and I really didn't want that kind a trouble. Maybe, I'd just introduce him to a few of my more cantankerous woodland friends and just let nature run its course. Then I thought, hell, this jerk probably carried a gun and I wouldn't want to see any of my animal friends gettin' hurt. I guess I'll just have to settle for wearin' him out.

"Don't we need to get my car?" he asked.

"Nah, the National Forest is right here. We can get where we need to on foot."

"This is too much territory to cover on foot. What makes you think we can find him without more searchers and helicopters?" Fink said as he reluctantly followed me up one of the easier trails not far from Joe's.

This idjit was already ready to give up. It was gonna take some talkin' on my part to keep him at it. I looked down at his street shoes and realized it would only take a couple of hours before his feet would be unfit for any kind of detective work that couldn't be done from a chair. That was my main objective. I figured that would slow down his search for John. My secondary objective was just to make his life miserable which may not help John any, but would do wonders for my disposition.

I explained, "First off, helicopters would be worthless with all these trees. If he ain't standin' out in the open sendin' up signal flares, they'll never spot him. Second, I know all the best hidey holes round here. We just have to check 'em all out."

"What will that entail?" he asked looking down clearly worried about his crisply pressed trousers.

"Actually, you'll have to do the spelunkin' my doctor says bendin' over is hard on my back," I lied. "You'll jest have ta stick yer head in a few spots while I keep a watch out."

The "hidey holes" I had in mind were several coyote and black bear dens. None of them critters like having their privacy invaded. Speaking of critters that don't like to be disturbed, where were those wasp nests I saw last week?

Well, I know all you folk have good imaginations; so, you don't need all the details of our hike. I'll just tell ya when Fink got back to his car, he could barely walk, was all stung up, flinched at every critter that came near him certain every dog was a coyote and every small critter was either a skunk, or some unknown venomous creature. Suffice ta say, I don't think he'll be goin' in ta the woods again anytime soon.