The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Back from the Dead
By: Sapphire
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Chapter Two: The Race
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Location: Quest Compound, Rockport, Maine
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"Mrs. Evans!" Maggie exclaimed when the housekeeper opened the front door.
"Maggie, dear!" Mrs. Evans greeted when she saw the young woman. "It's so good to see you. Oh, and who is this striking young man?"
"Oh, you remember Price. He's Matt's adopted brother," Maggie reminded.
"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Evans said with a glint of recognition in her eyes. "He looks so different in that uniform, so smart and handsome." Price was blushing with embarrassment at her compliments. "Come in, come in! Don't just stand out there in this cold!" She ushered them in from the falling snow.
"I hope it isn't any trouble that Price came. It was a last minute decision. We ran into one another at the train station." Maggie didn't want to impose on Mrs. Evans, but the good woman just smiled brightly.
"Not any trouble at all. He's welcome here same as you and your brother. Can I get you anything to eat, or maybe some hot chocolate to warm you?"
"No thank you," they both declined in unison. They laughed. Price continued. "Actually, if it wouldn't be a problem, we'd just like to take a good nap. We were both up all night."
"Of course, I should have thought of it. Up on that train and all. Maggie, your room is all ready. I'll just take a quick ten minutes to fix one up for you, Price," Mrs. Evans said. She flew up the stairs to start her task.
"I love her," Maggie said smiling. "She's wonderful. Uncle Benton was lucky to find her. What would this house do without her? It would fall to pieces, that's what it would do," she answered herself. Price laughed at her, and then they headed up to their rooms.
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It was just after noon when Maggie finally woke from her nap. She felt like stale bread in her rumpled traveling clothes, so she took a hot shower before going downstairs. In her fresh jeans and powder blue sweater, she energetically trotted down the steps to the living room.
"Sleep well, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked kindly, looking up from the easy chair in front of the fire where she was busy crocheting something that hadn't yet taken a discernable shape.
"I feel great," Maggie answered. "Is Price awake yet?"
"He's in the kitchen getting himself something to eat," Mrs. Evans told her.
"Good," Maggie replied, headingthat way. She paused, and turned back to Mrs. Evans. She hadn't seen the kindly housekeeper in some time. "How have you been, Mrs. Evans? And your mother?" Mrs. Evans looked up from her crocheting.
"Oh, I've been fine. Mother's been poorly since January," she said. "She's been asking me to come visit for some time. I haven't had the chance." Maggie suddenly wondered if perhaps staying at the Quest Compound would be too dangerous for Mrs. Evans. What if the gunman had followed them to Maine?
"Couldn't you go see her now?" Maggie asked. "Uncle Benton won't be back for a few days, and Price and I can look after the house since we're here."
"Would you do that?" Mrs. Evans asked. "Would Dr. Quest mind?"
"Why should he?" Maggie asked. "I'm somewhat surprised he hasn't sent you to see your mother sooner."
"I haven't spoken to him about it," Mrs. Evans admitted. "He's been busy these past months, and I've been needed. I didn't feel right asking for time off."
"You should have asked. Uncle Benton would have insisted you go. You know that," Maggie said. Mrs. Evans smiled.
"You're right at that," she agreed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go for a few days. The family is away, and you'll be here to watch over things." Maggie nodded. "You're such a sweet girl," Mrs. Evans said to Maggie. "I will go see my mother. If I leave now I can make the drive tonight." Mrs. Evans went to get ready to go home, and Maggie went to join Price in the Kitchen.
"What a difference," Maggie exclaimed, noticing his change of attire. "You certainly look more relaxed in jeans than you did in uniform."
"Don't you like my uniform?" Price asked with mock disappointment. "Most girls like men in uniforms." Despite his friendly teasing, Maggie could feel an undercurrent of tension left over from their argument on the train.
"Well, I'm not most girls," Maggie said with a little laugh. "Anyway, I just meant that you look ready to have some fun instead of being so serious."
"What kind of fun?" Price asked, his interest piqued. He was aware of the dissention, too, and welcomed any distraction.
"I happen to know there is a small fleet of snowmobiles in the garage," Maggie told him. "Jonny says there's a good trail through the woods on the property. Maybe would could take a couple of them out."
"Okay, let's go," Price grabbed the sandwich he had made and they headed for the door. "I'll let Mrs. Evans know where we're off to."
"No need," Maggie stopped him, "I gave her time off." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I don't want her to get hurt if someone tries to kill me again." Price stiffened slightly, but nodded. She had a point. There was no question someone had been shooting at Maggie. It was the who they didn't see eye to eye on. Together, they walked to the living room where Mrs. Evans was just pulling on her coat.
"Well, I'm off," Mrs. Evans said cheerily. "Thank you for giving me the time off. Mother will be happy to see me." She paused. "You're sure you can handle it?"
"It's our pleasure," Price said, "and don't worry about a thing. We can manage just fine." The two watched as Mrs. Evans left the house, backed her car out of the garage, and drove down the long drive until she was well out of sight.
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Maggie watched trees fly by as she led Price through the woods on her black snowmobile emblazoned with the silver and green Quest Enterprises emblem on the hood. The trail was easy to follow, so she could take the time to enjoy the forest scenery. As she crested a hill, she pulled to a stop and waited for Price to catch up on his matching snowmobile.
"What's up?" Price asked pulling off his helmet. He seemed much more relaxed than earlier. Maggie was more at ease as a result.
"How about a race?" Maggie suggested enthusiastically. "We could race down this hill and across that field down there," she pointed to the meadow at the foot of the hill, blanketed in fresh snow. "First one to the trees on the other side wins."
"You're on!" Price agreed. There was a metallic ping as something hit the running board on Maggie's snowmobile. They both looked down. "It's a bullet!" Price said in astonishment, spying the flattened silver disc lying in the dented metal. Another bullet hit the running board.
"Someone's shooting at us!" Maggie exclaimed in shock. "Let's get the hell out of here!" Both helmets went on in a flash, and they took off down the hill with a spray of snow kicked up by their snowmobile treads. As they got midway down the hill, Price started to veer off into the trees. He knew they would have a better chance of escape with the trees to help conceal and shield them. They couldn't do anything about the tracks, but they would be better off in the woods than in the open. Looking back, Price saw Maggie following his lead.
Once under the cover of the forest, they started to wind their way through the trees, hoping to confuse their pursuer. Maggie and Price zigzagged everywhere, criss-crossing their tracks as much as possible. When neither of them felt like hanging around any longer, they both headed away from the area.
Maggie kept looking back to see if anyone was following them. Someone had to be there somewhere. Just as she turned around a bend, she caught a glimpse of another snowmobile between the trees. It was hard to see both the rider and the machine. The rider was dressed in all white, and the snowmobile was white with no distinguishing markings. Pushing in the throttle a little more, Maggie raced ahead and caught up to Price. Catching his attention with a wave, she pointed her thumb behind them, and he took a look. Sure enough, someone was hot on their tail.
Price motioned Maggie to go one way, and himself the other. If there was only one attacker, one of them could double back and come up behind him. Maggie veered off to the right, and Price went to the left. Unfortunately for Maggie, the white snowmobile followed her.
Not being the most experienced rider, Maggie had a hard time outmaneuvering the person following her. She did manage to stay far enough ahead, though, so he couldn't get off a good shot. Bright sunlight just breaking through the clouds nearly blinded her. Blinking, she saw the trees were gone and she realized she was out in the open. "This is really bad," she thought to herself. "I'm a sitting duck out here." She gunned the engine, heading across the field toward the trees on the other side. "I can't believe how stupid I am," she chided herself. She had managed to circle back to the meadow clearing. Wondering how close the white snowmobile was, Maggie chanced a glance back.
The white snowmobile was just clearing the trees at the edge of the meadow. Maggie was nearly half-way across, but there was a long way to go. Knowing she was in danger out in the open, she swerved erratically to prevent the rider in white from getting a clear shot. The tactic slowed her down, and the white snowmobile was gaining ground.
Maggie looked back again. She could feel the color drain from her face when she saw the white snowmobile, closer than ever, and rapidly closing the remaining gap. Maggie looked forward to gauge how long it would take to reach the woods. With a lurch, the snow underneath the snowmobile gave way, and she felt herself go down. She had hit a deep air pocket in the snow and it was caving in beneath her.
Maggie screamed as she was flung to the ground. She sank deeply in the wet snow, and with a cry of horror, she watched her snowmobile flip upward, and come down on top of her, landing heavily across her body. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she was as still as death.
The white snowmobile came to a stop a short distance from where Maggie lay in the snow. It's rider climbed off and cautiously approached, checking to see if Maggie was still alive. The person in white crouched down and looked at the girl's face through the helmet's visor.
"She looks dead," the stranger spoke into a microphone hidden inside the white helmet. "If she isn't, that thing had to have crushed her chest. It'll kill her in the end." The words were heavy with cruel satisfaction. "It's more painful to die slowly. No one can survive that impact. Dead now or dead later is dead just the same." The person in white smirked at the girl lying in the snow, then turned and got back on the white snowmobile idling nearby.
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Price kept going until he was certain the white snowmobile was not following him. Which meant Maggie was in trouble. Doubling back, Price found the place they had split up and picked up Maggie's trail. There were two sets of tracks weaving through the trees. Price felt shivers go up his spine when he saw they headed straight into the open meadow.
Stopping just within the cover of the trees, Price looked out over the field, and his eyes locked on an overturned snowmobile on the far side. It was black. He went full throttle and raced to Maggie's overturned snowmobile, fearing the worst. His stomach turned when he saw Maggie was underneath the heavy machine.
"Maggie!" he shouted jumping off his snowmobile into the snow. "Oh, no, Maggie." He pulled off his helmet and knelt down beside Maggie's still body. He flipped up her visor. "Maggie, can you hear me?" He watched her closely, praying that she would wake up. Slowly, her eyes started to flutter open.
"Price?" she answered, her breath short and unsteady.
"Are you in pain?" he asked worriedly. Maggie studied his worried face for a minute, then looked away. Price watched as she carefully moved individual body parts, starting with her neck and ending with her feet.
"My wrist hurts," Maggie finally answered, "and I banged my knee pretty bad, but I don't think it's too serious."
"Thank God," Price breathed with relief.
"I'm fine," Maggie repeated. She started to squirm under the snowmobile. "I think if you dig a little of the snow out from under me, you can just pull me out."
"Alright," Price complied, and he started to dig out the snow. When he was finished, he grabbed hold of Maggie under her arms, and pulled her easily out from under the snowmobile. "That wasn't so bad," Price said. "It looks like the snow was holding most of the snowmobile's weight." Maggie nodded, and Price stood her on her feet. She promptly staggered and fell. "Maggie!"
"I'm okay, my knee just gave out." Maggie was carefully holding her left wrist to her side, and with her right hand, was gingerly feeling around her knee. "I can't tell how bad it is," she said seeing the hole in her snowmobile pants, and the blood on her fingers, "not until I get these things off."
"We'll just have to get you back to the house right away, then," Price told her.
"Ah!" she exclaimed as he picked her up out of the snow and carried her toward his snowmobile.
"I'm sorry," Price said setting her down on the seat, "did I hurt you?"
"No," she answered, staring up at him with wide eyes. "I just didn't expect to be picked up like that," Maggie said breathlessly. Price laughed as he put on his helmet and climbed on the snowmobile in front of Maggie. She flipped down her visor and held on tight with one arm. They sped off toward the compound.
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Price carried Maggie into the house and brought her straight to the living room. He set her on the floor near the fireplace where Mrs. Evans' fire was just barely holding onto the coals. Price placed some fresh wood onto the hot coals, and with a little encouragement, the wood caught, and would be burning bright and warm in a few minutes. Price got himself out of his outdoor clothes, then helped Maggie out of hers. Both their faces were grim when they saw the blood covering Maggie's torn jeans on the right knee.
"The pants have to come off," Maggie said. "I have thermals on under." Price helped Maggie stand, and she managed to take off her jeans.
Price tore the hole in her leggings to make it larger, then decided to tear it off completely from the knee down. They took a careful look at the injury. Both saw the cut was relatively deep. Maggie wondered if she should be taken to the hospital- it might require stitches.
"I don't know," Price muttered, his thoughts following the same path as Maggie's. "I've had first aid training, but this looks pretty bad." Maggie watched as he carefully cleaned and dressed the wound with gauze. He worked quickly and efficiently, and Maggie resolved she'd have to learn how to do first aid herself. "When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"
"Last fall," Maggie said. "I shouldn't have to worry about rusty metal." Price nodded. When he finished with the knee, he moved to her left wrist. "Ow!" Maggie exclaimed the second Price touched it.
"It hurts that bad?" he asked. "Maybe we should take you to the emergency room after all."
"No," Maggie disagreed adamantly. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her. Maggie relaxed a bit. "It's not that bad. I'm just being a baby." She didn't want to leave the house. It was too dangerous. Even if her wrist was broken, she would live with the pain if she had to. "It's probably just a bad sprain," she assured.
"If you say so," Price said reluctantly. "I'll just wrap it up, then." He unrolled an ace bandage and put it around Maggie's wrist. She set her jaw and bore up to the pain bravely. When he finished, he cleaned up the mess, and dropped Maggie's blood covered jeans into the trash.
"Help me over to the wall there," Maggie said when Price was finished. "I have to turn on the security systems." Price nodded, then lifted her off the floor and helped her hobble to the wall where she had indicated. She slid open a wall panel, revealing a computer console.
"Iris, turn on all security systems, please," Maggie said to the computer, "level three."
"Identify user, please," Iris replied pleasantly.
"Authorization, Maggie Hardy." She waited while the computer confirmed her voice patterns.
"Welcome to the Quest Compound, Maggie," Iris's voice greeted. "Initiating all security systems. All systems, level three, are on."
"Iris, scan for any intruders currently in the compound," Maggie said next. She waited while Iris ran the checks.
"Search negative," Iris said.
"Iris, allow no one to enter or exit except Maggie Hardy, Price Hovand, Benton Quest, Jonny Quest, Race Bannon, Jessie Bannon, and Hadji Singh."
"Allowances initiated," Iris said.
"Thank-you, Iris," Maggie said. She looked up at Price. "Now I feel much better," she said with a relieved sigh.
"Me too," Price agreed. "Now how about some supper?" Maggie nodded, and Price helped her to the couch beside the fireplace and tucked a warm blanket around her. Price went into the kitchen and brought out some hot chocolate and a plate of sandwiches. They both savored the hot drink and devoured the sandwiches, then Price looked over the bookshelves until he found one he liked. "I'll read to you, if you want," he offered.
"I'd like that," Maggie replied, curling up in the corner of the couch. Price sat right beside her, and began to read. The book was filled with humorous stories, and they laughed at them, but their hearts weren't really in it. As the day faded into night, Maggie drifted off to sleep, leaning against Price's arm. He smiled to himself, then settled in and fell asleep too.
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Maggie awoke when she felt someone next to her move. She opened her eyes and saw Price getting more wood to add to the fire. Light was streaming in through the paned windows, and the flickering fire made her realize he had kept it going all night.
"Good morning," Maggie said, stretching, and wincing when the movement hurt her wrist. Price looked up from where he knelt at the hearth.
"Sorry if I woke you," he said.
"No, you didn't," Maggie assured. She settled back into the couch cushions again. "Did you get much sleep?" Price sighed.
"No," he said. "I kept hearing noises and of course I had to check them out. I was worried the gunman would come back."
"No one can get past security," Maggie reminded. "Iris would warn us if there was any danger."
"I know, but I still worried." Price stretched his stiff muscles then meandered toward the kitchen. "I'm going to get breakfast. You want some?" he asked.
"Just some toast if you don't mind," Maggie called back. Price made some kind of affirmative noise, then disappeared around the stairs. Maggie sighed, and untangled herself from the blankets. Carefully, she pulled herself to a standing position. The sight of her bandages, and her leggings, torn off at the knee, made her suddenly desperate for a shower and a fresh change of clothes. She headed for the stairs, hobbling carefully across the room.
"Where do you think you're going?" Price questioned, catching sight of her through the kitchen doorway.
"Upstairs to get a shower," she answered firmly.
"Hold on," Price said. "Not on that knee, you're not." He quickly joined her at the main stairs and scooped her up off the ground. Maggie protested. "I'm worried the cut will reopen," Price said as he carried her upstairs. "You should take it easy today. I'll help you get around. Just call me when you're ready to come downstairs," he said, depositing her in her room. Then he headed back to the kitchen.
Left to her own devices for the time being, Maggie decided taking a bath would make it easier to keep her knee out of the water. However, that made washing her hair just a bit difficult. She managed, though, shampooing with only one hand and rinsing by leaning back under the tap. Finally clean, she dried off, then dressed in a pale yellow sweater and a knee-length skirt. Jeans pressed too hard on her knee, and the skirt kept it relatively pain free. Her wrist, however, hurt like hell and there was no simple fix for it.
"I hope it's not broken," Maggie thought to herself. "Even if it is, I can't let Price know it. It's not safe to leave the compound. I just have to put up with it." Maggie rummaged through the medicine cupboard in the hall and found a strong pain reliever. She took two capsules, then headed for the stairs.
At the top, she called for Price, who was just finishing buttering the toast she had ordered, after fixing himself some eggs and breakfast ham. He bounded up the steps to carry her down. Midway to the bottom, the front door opened and Jonny, Jessie, and Race came in with Bandit running behind.
"Maggie!" Jonny shouted. "What are you doing here? Why is the security at level three?" Jonny watched in confusion as Price carried his cousin the rest of the way down the stairs.
"What the Sam Hill happened to you?" Race asked curiously, his gaze clearly noting the bandages on her knee and wrist. Maggie blushed, embarrassed that everyone was watching her.
"There was a little accident yesterday," Price answered grimly. "Why don't we discuss it over breakfast?"
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To be continued…
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