PERILS
Chapter Fifteen
Doc Fitch had not actually examined the Doctor more than cursorily and thus had not encountered anything confusing – such as an extra heart or the pulses to match. The Doctor was awake and sufficiently recombobulated by suppertime to realize that he needed to get moving before such an examination could occur. He knew his blood sample was going to cause a little excitement at the lab and was annoyed with himself for permitting it to be drawn.
The Doctor bowed his head during the prayer and then the three of them tucked into the cold sliced chicken, seasoned turnip greens, mashed potatoes and egg custard tarts. Denny didn't eat much; he'd expended a lot of energy getting downstairs and his stomach was aching anyway. Lena was cheerful in aspect but the Doctor felt some understandable underlying anxiety and tried unsuccessfully to draw her out. He was biting into his second tart when he heard a noise outside. Lena heard it too. Denny saw them tense up and looked from one to the other, then heard the voices calling "Come outside, Lopez! We've got something for you!"
"It's them," he whispered. "They've come to finish the job. They've come to kill us."
The Doctor stood up. "Allow me," he said, leaving the table. He went outside in his shirtsleeves, was somewhat surprised to see five rather than two hooded men standing in the yard not far from an Avery motor truck - two of them carrying fence posts, two holding hatchets and one brandishing a shotgun – but he smiled as winningly as he could and called out to them, "Comme une bombe, je tombe de la lune!" The men turned toward him. Sotto voce he corrected himself: "No, that was silly." He called out again, "Hello! I'm the Doctor! May I help you?"
"What's your business here, Doctor? Someone sick?" The one with the shotgun was apparently the spokesman.
"I could ask you the same, gentlemen. What exactly is your business here?"
"Our business is none of your business."
"I'm afraid it is," replied the Doctor. "These fine people are under my protection."
This evoked laughter from all five of them, and one of the hatchet men stepped forward, but the Doctor did not retreat.
"Which one of you is Bob Burton? And I am sure Freddie is there. You two with the fence posts, Bob and Freddie, right?"
The other three looked at Bob and Freddie, confirming the Doctor's identification. In that instant everyone was looking away, the Doctor stepped up to the one who'd approached and relieved him of his hatchet. The man jumped back. The intruder with the shotgun closed the action and pointed it at the Doctor. The Doctor ignored him. The other hatchet man ran toward the Doctor with his weapon raised and stopped inches from the Doctor's face. He froze, poised to hack the Doctor in half, but the Doctor just kept standing there, holding his requisitioned hatchet low, dangling loosely from his left hand, the blade just skimming the tell grass, almost as if he'd forgotten he was even in possession of it, his smile still unwavering. In fact, it was disconcerting to keep smiling engagingly into two holes in a sheet instead of an actual face, but for all he betrayed that disconcertedness the Doctor might as well have been masked himself. The hatchet man took one step backwards and lowered his weapon. The Doctor suddenly leaned on his hatchet, which, not even nearly reaching the ground, caused him to stumble into the other man. He took this opportunity to reach out and snatch the second hatchet away with his right hand, sore as his wrist was. He winced only slightly and now leaned way down on the two hatchets as if they were crutches. "Bob, Freddie, come try your luck," he grinned. Bob and Freddie backed up, partially because of this insane invitation and partly because their two disarmed associates had run toward them rather recklessly.
The shotgun-wielding trespasser shifted the gun into his left hand and used his right to remove his hood. "I don't care if you see my face. I don't know you and you don't know me, and you'll be dead before you have a chance to describe me." He raised the shotgun again and walked slowly to the Doctor, whose smile barely wavered. "My name is Ace Calhoun and my face is the last one you'll ever see." He put the muzzle of the shotgun against the Doctor's forehead.
"Ace," repeated the Doctor. "Good name. I've never met anyone called Ace before. I've always wanted to. How'd you get a name like that?"
"Either you're an idiot," said Ace, "or you're pulling my leg. I don't like having my leg pulled and I can't abide idiots."
"Hear that, Bob and Freddie? Watch yourselves. He doesn't like idiots. You won't shoot me," said the Doctor, evenly, to Ace. "The sheriff wouldn't like it."
"The sheriff is a wuss."
"Oh, well, then, you may go about shooting anyone you like in that case. I've been wrong before. But before you do any shooting, it might interest you to know that I'm a pretty good shot, myself. In fact, I never miss."
It was Ace's turn to smile. "You're unarmed, bud."
"Well, actually, no, I have two weapons in fact, but I get your meaning. Still, it is a pity that your eyes are going."
"What?" Ace snorted. "My eyes are fine."
"Well," the Doctor disagreed, "look how close to the target you need to hold that shotgun. Do you always squint like that?"
"I don't squint," said Ace, squinting.
"No, of course not. I am the Doctor, but I understand that you don't want to take advantage of me. Not that it would be a bother. I wouldn't mind at all. Oh, well."
The shotgun wavered. "Mind what?"
"Oh, I don't want to put you in an awkward position," hedged the Doctor. "Getting me to check your eyes and then having to go back to blowing my brains out. Very awkward indeed. A real ethical dilemma. I'm sorry I brought it up. It was presumptuous of me."
Ace lowered the shotgun and turned to his friends. "This guy's chumpy!"
The Doctor let both hatchets fall, put a foot on the handle of each one, reached out and easily confiscated the shotgun, and called out, "Bob! Throw the post up as high as you can!" Without thinking, Bob threw the fence post in the air and the Doctor lifted the shotgun and shattered the post. "Lucky shot, ya think? Freddie?" Freddie tossed his post as high as he could and the Doctor split it lengthwise. Then he emptied out the remaining slugs and handed the gun back to Ace. "I told you. I never miss."