by LeVar Burton
Rushing to her side, Leon caught her before she could fall off the table. He removed the copper headband from her head and held her. She was limp, weak, her eyes unfocused. The mental message she sent must have physically drained her, leaving her as helpless as a kitten. He wondered how long it would take before she recovered, for each second they lingered increased the risk of being caught.
“Come on. Come on. Wake up.” He rubbed her arms and legs, trying to get the circulation flowing. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch. He was starting to worry that Rene had done some permanent mental damage to herself when she opened her eyes and looked around.
She was still weak, but at least she was conscious again and able to sit up on her own. Letting go of her, Leon turned off the Neuro-Enhancer and placed it back in its padded case. He had just closed the case when the night was shattered by a barrage of gunshots.
“What the hell?” Leon turned and ran to the window, amazed by what he saw. Outside a battle raged, but it was not a war fought between opposing armies. On the contrary, it was being fought by members of the same side. It was the guards who fought; they fought one another.
Unable to believe his eyes, he watched as the guards battled each other with guns, knives, even their bare fists. And as he watched, Leon realized that it was Rene who had started the war. She had used the Neuro-Enhancer to project her thoughts and emotions with enough force to affect the minds of the guards, causing them to turn on one another.
“Incredible,” he whispered. “Absolutely incredible.” Turning away from the window, he hurried back to where Rene still sat.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
Rene nodded, but nearly fell when she tried to stand up. Holding her around the waist, Leon tucked the Neuro-Enhancer beneath his arm and grabbed the shotgun off the table.
“Okay, let’s go.”
He led her across the room to the door, pausing to check for guards before stepping outside. He needn’t have bothered, however, for the guards were much too preoccupied with fighting one another to worry about the two of them.
Moving from building to building, using the shadows for concealment when possible, they made their way slowly toward the opening in the fence. By the time they reached the fence Rene had recovered enough of her strength to walk on her own. Once through the opening, they hurried across an open field. Behind them, the night was filled with gunshots and screams.
They arrived back at the truck a few minutes later, only to discover that they had unwelcome company waiting for them. Dr. Randall Sinclair stood near the pickup’s front bumper, quietly smoking a cigar, a submachine gun clenched tightly in his right hand. A few feet away on the ground sat Danny Santos, bleeding from a gunshot wound to the shoulder. Amy stood beside Danny, holding his hand, crying softly.
“Hello, Dr. Reynolds.” Sinclair smiled. “How nice of you to drop by. As you can see, I’ve been expecting you.” He pointed his gun at Leon. “Please, toss that shotgun over here.”
Leon did as he was told.
“You son of a bitch,” Rene hissed.
“Oh come now, Dr. Reynolds. You didn’t think I would be stupid enough to leave the Neuro-Enhancer just lying around, did you? I recognized you earlier and knew that you would try to get it back. I’m still trying to figure out how you managed to escape in Chicago. Obviously, you are a woman of many talents. According to my guards, you are also quite dangerous.”
He puffed on his cigar and continued. “One of my drivers reported that he was followed today by several people in a pickup, including a black man. I had a suspicion it might be your friend coming to rescue you.” He nodded at Leon. “Looks like I was right I assume you brought the codes?”
Leon didn’t answer. Instead he stared in anger at the man responsible for the Skinner farm’s operation—a man who was a doctor, who was supposed to help people, not murder them.
Dr. Sinclair met Leon’s stare with a look of smug satisfaction. “Now, if you would be kind enough to hand me that case.”
Rene snatched the Neuro-Enhancer out of Leon’s hands and raised it above her head. “Never! I’ll smash it first!”
“Such dramatics.” Dr. Sinclair grinned. “But you won’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, you’re a scientist. You don’t want to see your life’s work destroyed. For another”—he placed the barrel of the submachine gun against Amy’s head—“you don’t want to see this little girl’s brains splattered all over the place.”
Rene froze. She lowered the case. “Okay, you win. Let her go.” She stepped forward and set the Enhancer on the ground, then stepped back.
“Thank you.” Sinclair nodded. “But I’m afraid I can’t do that. She knows too much. So do you.”
He swung the gun barrel in Rene’s direction. “It’s a tragedy to shoot a woman like you, Dr. Reynolds. You’ve got pretty skin, real pretty skin. But I’m sure my men will be able to salvage enough so that your death won’t be a total loss.
“As for you,” he said, pointing the gun at Leon. “You should feel proud. Even after your death part of your worthless hide will live on. Think of it as a badge of honor on someone else’s chest.”
Sinclair paused and cocked his head to the side, listening to the gunshots coming from the farm. “I’d love to stay and chat, but there seems to be a party going on. They say when the cat’s away the mice will play. Obviously, I’ve been away too long.” He aimed again at Rene. “Goodbye, Dr. Reynolds. It’s been fun.”
“Aiiyeee … yi … yi … yi … yi.” Jacob Fire Cloud burst from the darkness, his face covered with warpaint, eagle feathers hanging from his hair. He came barreling down the narrow dirt road on his rusty bicycle, heading straight at Randall Sinclair.
Startled, Sinclair turned and fired, emptying the submachine gun’s clip. The bullets tore into the old Indian’s chest and stomach, knocking him off the bicycle.
Leon didn’t hesitate. He sprang like a jungle cat, tackling the doctor from behind, pummeling him with blow after blow. Although taken by surprise, Sinclair recovered quickly and fought back with punches and elbow strikes. The doctor was bigger, stronger, his blows staggered Leon, finally dropping him to his knees.
Sinclair jumped to his feet and scooped up his machine gun, pointing it at Leon’s head. He squeezed the trigger, but the clip was empty. He pulled a fresh clip out of his pants pocket and started to reload.
“Mr. Cane!” Leon turned and saw Amy standing over Jacob Fire Cloud. She threw something shiny toward him. Jacob’s .357 revolver.
Leon lunged for the pistol, catching it in his left hand as he hit the ground. Rolling over, he aimed quickly and fired twice. The big Magnum sounded like a cannon going off, a brilliant flash of fire leaping from the end of its six-inch barrel.
The bullets struck Randall Sinclair in the center of his chest, tearing through flesh and shattering bone. The doctor staggered back, his machine gun chattering. A spray of bullets danced all around Leon, but none hit him.
Leon fired again, and again, emptying the revolver, hitting the doctor in the chest and stomach. Randall Sinclair fell backward, toppling like an oak tree.
Leon got to his feet. He stood over Dr. Sinclair’s body and continued to pull the revolver’s trigger, the hammer falling on empty shell casings. Click … click … click.
“He’s dead.”
He squeezed the trigger again. Click … click.
“He’s dead, Leon.”
Leon looked up. Rene stood a few feet away from him. “He’s dead,” she said again. “You killed the bastard.” He looked down, saw that Dr. Randall Sinclair was truly dead, and let the gun slip from his fingers and fall to the ground. He turned and saw Jacob Fire Cloud lying on the ground, bleeding.
Oh, God.
Leon started toward the old Indian, stopped and started again, not wanting to see how badly Jacob was hurt but knowing he had to look. He prayed the old man’s injuries were not serious, just minor flesh wounds. But they wer
e bad, real bad. Jacob Fire Cloud was dying.
Amy knelt next to Jacob, holding one of his bloody hands in hers. She looked to Leon for help, her eyes wet with tears. But there was nothing he could do for him, nothing at all. Danny was also by the Indian’s side, talking to him, comforting him, trying to stop the bleeding. There was a lot of blood.
Leon kneeled beside Jacob, took the old man’s other hand and held it tight. Jacob looked up at him and smiled. “I told my son it was a good gun.”
Leon nodded, blinking back tears. “A very good gun.”
Jacob coughed and turned his head to look at Rene. “I knew you would come. I had a vision.”
The old Indian whispered something to Amy. She let go of his hand and ran over to the bicycle, untying the wooden staff from the handlebars. Jacob coughed again and continued, “My people have been waiting a long time for your return, White Buffalo Woman. A very long time. Some said you would not be back, but I knew you would come in time to stop the Great Shaking.”
“But I’m not—”
Leon shook his head; Rene stopped. Amy returned and handed her the wooden staff adorned with eagle feathers.
“That is the flag of my people,” Jacob said proudly. “It is your flag now; they are your people. Go, White Buffalo Woman. Go teach your children. They are waiting …” With those words Jacob Fire Cloud gave a final sigh, and died.
Leon continued to hold Jacob’s lifeless hand, not wanting to let it go, feeling the warmth of the old Indian’s spirit slowly ebb away. Somewhere in the distance an owl cried out, calling Jacob’s name. Calling him home.
Epilogue
Leon Cane brought the pickup to a gradual stop, staring out the windshield at the bullet-riddled sign, which marked the boundary of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Beyond the sign, the narrow blacktop road was lined with hundreds, maybe even thousands, of tents and makeshift shelters. In the middle of the vast South Dakota prairie a city had been born, a city whose residents had come from all parts of the country looking for a cure to what ailed them, looking for guidance. It was a metropolis built on a foundation of desperation and hope.
Less than a week had passed since Leon helped Dr. Rene Reynolds escape from the Skinner farm, but it felt like a lifetime. Shortly after their escape, they had notified the authorities about the farm. The State Police moved in quickly, freeing prisoners and arresting the men involved in the farm’s operation—those that were still alive.
Rene sat beside him in the pickup, gazing in awe at the village that had sprung up along the reservation’s border. Leon turned and looked at her, studying her profile, wondering what thoughts and feelings danced through her head. The mental voice that had been a part of him for so long was now silent; Rene no longer called him. He had heard the voice for the last time when she used the Neuro-Enhancer to direct her anger at the Skinner guards, causing them to turn against one another.
Neither of them felt any sorrow for the guards who died that night, or for the death of Dr. Randall Sinclair, for they had been responsible for the imprisonment, suffering and murder of hundreds of innocent people. But Rene did regret using the Neuro-Enhancer to hurt rather than heal, changing it from a device of mercy into a weapon.
Leon glanced down. The padded case containing the Neuro-Enhancer was cradled between Rene’s feet on the floorboard of the truck. Was it a weapon? He didn’t think so. Rene had told him that the peculiar side effects caused by the Enhancer were rare; so far, she had been the only one to project a thought with enough force to control a person’s actions. No, the device was no more a weapon than Rene was a murderer. Used properly, it could be the greatest breakthrough ever in medical science, a solution to pain and suffering for millions.
But there is some pain even the Neuro-Enhancer cannot cure—the pain of loneliness that comes from deep within the heart.
Leon thought of his wife and daughter. The hurt he felt was still there, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as before. Perhaps by helping Rene he had partially redeemed himself for his past failure. Or maybe the pain had diminished because he had finally bared his soul to another human being, sharing the hurt he had keep bottled up inside for so many years.
Two nights ago, he had told Rene everything about himself: his job at NASA, his report linking shuttle launches to severe weather patterns, the firebombing of his home and the loss of his family. His revelation had touched her heart, leaving her speechless. She too knew what it was like to lose a family member, to be haunted by the memory of someone you love. Rene had held him as he cried, his spirit finally releasing the sorrow he had clung to for so long. They made love later that night, their bodies and souls joining together, sharing a passion and tenderness each of them desperately needed. Afterward, Rene hooked the Neuro-Enhancer to his head, allowing him to experience the wonders she had discovered.
He had a lot to be thankful to Rene for. She had given him his life back, given him a reason to go on living. When he thought of his family now his mind wasn’t filled with flames and screams. Instead the memories that floated to the surface from his subconscious were of happier times: visions of moonlit walks along the beach with Vanessa, quiet moments in front of the television, and the joy of giving horsey-back rides to his little girl.
The laughter of a child suddenly filled the air. He turned and looked out the rear window. Danny Santos sat in the back of the pickup, rolling a small rubber ball back and forth to Amy. The young man was lucky; the bullet from Sinclair’s gun had passed through the meaty part of his shoulder without striking any bone. With a little rest and recuperation, he should have full use of his left arm again in no time.
Danny was lucky in other ways too, as was Amy; they had found each other. He had invited the little girl to live with him and his family in Billings and she had said yes, the thought of belonging to a real family and having brothers to play with too much to resist. But they agreed to put off their return trip to Montana for a few days so Rene could start them on the teachings.
Leon smiled. Because of Jacob Fire Cloud, Dr. Rene Reynolds no longer considered her work with the Neuro-Enhancer to be strictly scientific. She was no longer experimenting on people, she was teaching them to unlock the full potential of their brains.
Go teach your children. They are waiting …
Jacob’s final words floated through his mind. The old Indian had died while trying to save the life of the woman he believed to be the third coming of the White Buffalo Woman. Rene doubted she was that woman, but she felt something was owed to the man who took a bullet meant for her. Because of that debt, she and the others had come to the South Dakota reservation. If the world was going to be healed, if people were going to learn to live together as brothers and sisters, then it had to start somewhere. Why not here?
Both Leon and Rene looked forward to a time when mankind might live together in harmony, free from sickness and disease. A nation built not on war and hatred, but on love and understanding. They knew their dream would not happen overnight, even with the Neuro-Enhancer. There were still those with hearts darkened by hatred and prejudice. Such people were like a tumorous growth; until they were completely removed from society there could be no healing.
Leon had heard rumors of other doctors performing illegal skin grafts, and of Skinner farms in several different states. That was why he could not stay with Rene for very long, no matter how much he would have liked to.
He had found a calling, a battle worth fighting for, a chance to redeem himself even more. He wanted to locate the remaining Skinner farms and turn them in to the authorities. He would leave no stone unturned, driving the snakes out into the light of day where they would be destroyed once and for all. Along the way he would look for those of a good heart and mind, people worthy of sharing in Rene’s teaching. He would travel the country, sowing the seeds from which a new America would grow.
But first he was going back to Pennsylvania to visit his family—something he had not done in many years. He knew from experience how painf
ul it was for a father to lose a daughter, but it was equally painful for a mother to lose a son. He was going back to Millvat to see his mother. Leon Cane was going home.
“It is possible to believe that all the past is but the beginning of a beginning, and that all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn. It is possible to believe that all the human mind has ever accomplished is but the dream before the awakening.”
—H. G. Wells
About the Author
LeVar Burton is an actor, director, educator, and cofounder of the award-winning Skybrary app. The former host and executive producer of PBS’s Reading Rainbow, Burton is a lifelong children’s literacy advocate. He hosts his own podcast, LeVar Burton Reads, where he shares handpicked short fiction. Burton also has a new YouTubeseries, This Is My Story, which highlights experiences of racism in America. Recently, he launched the LeVar Burton Book Club with Fable, a new platform for book clubs and social reading with the mission to improve mental wellness.
Burton starred as Kunta Kinte in the acclaimed miniseries Roots and as Lt. Comdr. Geordi LaForge in the Star Trek: The Next Generation television series and feature films. He has been nominated for threePrimetime Emmy Awards along with twenty-seven Daytime Emmy Awards, resulting in over twenty wins. One of the longest running children’s television shows in history, Reading Rainbow won more than twenty-five Emmy Awards during its twenty-six-year run from 1983 to 2009, including ten for Outstanding Series, as well as the prestigious George Foster Peabody Award. Burton has also been nominated twice for the Spoken Word Grammy Award, winning in 1999 for narrating The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr.
On June 11, 2019, Sacramento’s Meadowview leaders honored Burton with the official renaming and dedication of Richfield Park to LeVar Burton Park.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
