Attack of the Bayport Beast

by Franklin W. Dixon

  A rustling of leaves drew away my attention. I turned to see the orangutan hopping up, trying to reach the food bag we’d hung from a high branch. The technique was meant to keep bears from ransacking one’s camp in search of food. I don’t think it would’ve been ape-proof, however. The orangutan batted the bottom of the suspended sack with his fingertips. A couple more jumps and he would’ve had it.

  “That’s right,” I said. “I promised you dinner.”

  I moved to the tree trunk and untied the thin cord suspending the bag. The line slid over the branch and the bag dropped into the orangutan’s waiting arms. The ape shook the bag, then upended it. Power bars and foil packs of dehydrated meals spilled to the ground like prizes from a camping piñata.

  While the orangutan and gorilla tore into the packs, I rummaged through my backpack and retrieved my first aid kit. I attended the hairless chimpanzee while the others popped dried meatballs into their mouths as if they were popcorn.

  I knelt beside the chimp and got to work. When I wiped away most of the fresh blood, I saw a small hole in the ape’s bicep. “Did someone shoot you?” I asked as I gingerly raised his arm to examine it more closely. There was an exit wound on the other side; the bullet had passed straight through.

  I didn’t risk cleaning the wound too much. Chimpanzees were known for their uncanny strength, and the last thing I wanted was to cause the ape pain only to have it send me flying into another tree. I was done slamming my head into trees, thank you very much.

  After I’d cleaned the wound as much as I dared, I pulled out some gauze pads and cautiously dressed it. Once the pads were in place, I wrapped a long bandage around the chimp’s bicep to keep them in place. That would stop the bleeding for the time being.

  I smiled down at him. “We’re almost done.”

  The chimp seemed to sense my intentions; he not only let me handle his wounded arm but raised his other arm and placed a gentle hand against my face.

  “What have you got there?” I asked, noticing something on his arm. A series of eight numbers were tattooed on the inside of his right arm.

  The chimpanzee didn’t answer, of course. Instead, he lowered his arm and closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell slowly as he slept.

  With the ape’s head tilted back, I noticed a hard plastic collar encircling his neck. I switched on my flashlight and leaned closer. There were three tiny buckles holding the collar closed. No doubt they were meant to be too small for the chimp’s thick fingers—but not too small for mine. I carefully unsnapped the buckles and slid the collar from around his neck.

  As I examined the collar, I saw a small black box. A tiny red light pulsed on its side and a logo adorned the top of the box: an upside-down triangle surrounding a flagpole with two pointed flags on either side. A spring encircled the bottom of the pole. It was the same logo from Johansson’s business card.

  I glanced back at the sleeping hairless chimpanzee, the gorilla and orangutan who knew sign language. They both had similar collars around their necks. Suddenly the logo made perfect sense.

  BANG!

  A shot rang out in the forest. I thought I’d imagined the one I had heard earlier, but this one was real . . . and it sounded close.

  I glanced at our empty tent. My brother was missing, and now there was a gunshot in the woods. Because Joe was . . . Joe, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine that if there was trouble, he’d be smack in the middle of it. So I did what you’re never supposed to do; I ran toward the sound of gunfire.

  16

  INCOMING!

  JOE

  BENNY AND I HUGGED THE ground. My heart raced as Johansson loomed above us, smoking gun in hand.

  “That was your only warning shot,” Johansson threatened. The rifle barrel swayed back and forth, from me to Benny. “Now, get up and dig.”

  We stood and silently grabbed our dropped pick and shovel. Benny swung the pick and I began slicing the ground with the shovel. The ground was soft; we’d have this hole dug in no time.

  Part of me hoped that the campers Frank had met would investigate the rifle shot, but I didn’t think there was any chance of that. After all, who would be stupid enough to run toward the sound of gunfire? And I wouldn’t want any of them to be trapped in this mess with us. Oh, well. Maybe at least they’d call the cops.

  “You can’t do this,” I said, trying to buy us some time.

  “Shut it,” Johansson ordered.

  “I’m a detective, remember?” I asked. “You’ll get caught. There’s too much evidence connecting you to the scene.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “What evidence?”

  “All the people who saw you talking to us,” I said. “If we disappear, the cops will come to you first.”

  Johansson sneered. “No one saw us talking.”

  “Our comic shop has security cameras,” Benny added. “You’re all over those.”

  The man’s eyes widened and his rifle drooped a bit. “You’re lying.”

  Benny shook his head. “No, I’m not. You’d be surprised how many kids swipe comics.”

  “Speaking of cameras.” I stopped digging. “Remember those five game cameras you bought?”

  Johansson’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t.”

  More confident, I leaned on the shovel. “We mounted them all around here. I’m sure you’re on a couple of them at least.” I didn’t mention that one of the cameras was smashed and out of commission.

  “You weren’t supposed to place them up here,” Johansson growled. “I told you to put them on the lower trails.”

  “Yeah, you knew we were going on a Bayport Beast hunt,” I said. “So, instead of trying to stop us, which would have seemed very suspicious to a couple of detectives like ourselves, you tried to keep us at the other end of the trail system. Isn’t that right?” I asked. “So we wouldn’t catch you hunting up here?”

  Johansson blinked, overwhelmed. “Yes, but . . . I . . .”

  I cocked my head. “And just what were you hunting, anyway? It’s sure not the Bayport Beast, because that title belongs to my friend here.” I placed a hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Dude. You can stop digging now.”

  Johansson’s lips tightened. “That’s none of your business.” He glanced at Benny. “Keep digging!”

  I let the shovel drop to the ground. “Look, you let us go and we’ll promise not to turn those cameras over to the police.”

  “I have a counteroffer,” Johansson sneered. “You take me to all those cameras and I won’t shoot your friend here.” He aimed the rifle at Benny’s chest.

  Okay, not a big fan of that counteroffer.

  A beep came from behind us. A light flashed on the radio on the camp table. Keeping the rifle trained on us, Johansson sidestepped to the table.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I thought the batteries were dead,” he muttered.

  “Batteries?” Benny asked. “For what?”

  “For this,” said a voice. Frank stepped out of the woods and into the lantern light. He held out a strip of flat plastic with a black box attached.

  The radio beeped louder as Frank approached. He seemed to be holding some sort of tracking device and Johansson had the receiver.

  Startled, Johansson aimed the rifle at my brother. “Where did you get that?”

  “Off one of your test subjects,” Frank said. “The one you shot.”

  “Test subjects?” I asked.

  “Mr. Johansson isn’t after the Bayport Beast,” Frank said. He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Or maybe it’s Doctor Johansson? It all came together when I saw the condition of one of your test subjects and then this.” He tossed the strip of plastic to me.

  It had the same logo that was on Johansson’s business card.

  “That’s not a logo for his production company,” Frank explained. “Look at it closely. Remind you of anything? Looks like a modern take on a caduceus, doesn’t it?”

  My brother was right. The caduceus was an ancient Greek symbol
commonly used by the medical field. The original icon has a staff with a feathered wing on opposite sides. Two snakes entwine the staff and face each other. The logo on the box did look like a simplified version.

  “It’s for my company, Rex Pharmaceuticals. I don’t work in TV.” Johansson lowered the rifle and rubbed his forehead. “Johansson isn’t even my real name. It’s Michael Rex. My company is small, and we were already under federal investigation.” His lips tightened. “I think someone leaked that we were running trials on primates without authorization.” He stumbled to the chair at the table. “After that, I had to do something. . . . I put every penny I had into this company, and we needed to bring a successful drug to market in order to stay afloat. We were at a dead end.” He waved a hand at Frank. “You saw the one. It lost all its hair. The drug was a failure.”

  “What drug?” I asked.

  The man shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was about to be exposed. My career would be over, my company finished; I would lose everything. Everything.” Johansson—or Rex—let out a long breath. “I needed to destroy the evidence connecting me to those trials. I was on my way to do just that when my van ran off the road. All three test subjects escaped into the woods.” He turned to us. “I needed you boys to place the cameras that might find them. I just didn’t want you near the crash site. It was too dangerous . . . too likely that you’d figure it out.”

  “That crash!” exclaimed Benny.

  “Destroy the evidence,” Frank repeated. “As in kill them. He’s already shot one of them.”

  “So he’s been out here hunting monkeys?” I asked. “That’s sick, dude.”

  Frank raised his eyebrows. “Try bigger.”

  “Bigger?” I asked.

  “Turns out his test subjects are a chimpanzee, a gorilla, and an orangutan,” Frank continued.

  “What?” Benny and I asked in unison.

  Frank nodded. “Sorry. They ate all the spaghetti and meatballs.” He turned to Rex. “Look, just give me the rifle and we can call animal control or something. Get all the apes somewhere safe.”

  “Uh, don’t you mean that you already called the authorities and they’re on their way?” I asked my brother. He had no idea how crazy this guy was.

  Rex sprang to his feet. “Nice try.” He raised the rifle and Frank backed away. “I haven’t been able to get a signal in these blasted woods. I’m sure you haven’t either.”

  “Different carrier?” I offered.

  “And now I know right where those apes are,” he said. “The bear traps I placed weren’t enough, apparently, but I’ll find them.”

  Frank looked at me. “What’s going on?”

  “Dude, he’s going to shoot us,” I said.

  “Don’t forget the cameras,” Benny told Rex.

  “Oh, I’ll find them,” the man barked. “Right after I take care of you and those apes.”

  Just then something rumbled in the woods, a growl so deep that I actually felt it before I heard it. A giant black shape exploded into the light. It was a gorilla. An actual gorilla! And, boy, was it angry! Breathing hard, it narrowed its eyes and snarled at Rex. I’m guessing it wasn’t a big fan of the doctor.

  Rex swung the rifle around, but he was too slow. The giant ape knocked it away with a massive backhand. We all ducked as the rifle flew over our heads before spinning into the forest.

  The gorilla let out a roar and charged at Johansson. The man scrambled away and disappeared into the forest, the great ape shuffling after him.

  “That had to be the scariest, coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.

  Frank ran toward the spot where the gorilla disappeared. “Come on.” I started after him.

  “Uh, guys!” Benny said behind us.

  I skidded to a stop and spun around. Benny was frozen stiff while an orangutan had its arms wrapped around his waist. The ape grinned as it laid his head against Benny’s side.

  Frank doubled back and took in the scene. “Oh, he’s cool,” my brother said with a dismissive wave. “Just stay calm until we get back.” He spun and disappeared into the forest. I shrugged at Benny before running after my brother.

  “Come on, guys!” Benny shouted after us.

  “Wow,” said Frank as I caught up to him. “The orangutan didn’t greet me that way.”

  “It must be his beast suit,” I suggested.

  Frank laughed. “Well, Benny did want to be the beast.”

  It wasn’t hard to track Rex and the gorilla. We just followed the sounds of pounding footsteps and snapping tree branches.

  “YEEEAAAAAAH!” bellowed Rex.

  “Is the gorilla hurting him?” I asked.

  Frank poured on the speed. “I hope not.”

  We followed the shrieks until we came upon the gorilla standing just outside a familiar clearing. Rex was in the center of the clearing about twenty feet away, howling in pain. His ankle was clamped inside one of his own bear traps.

  Frank stepped forward, about to enter the ring of trees. I grabbed his arm. “Dude. He probably has more of those things out there. Benny found one earlier.”

  Frank fell back and looked at the gorilla. “But those traps didn’t work on you guys, huh?” he asked the animal. “You’re smarter than that.” He patted the ape on the shoulder.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  “You have no idea,” Frank replied. He turned to the gorilla and signed, “Thank you.” The ape huffed and made a sign I could only assume was “You’re welcome.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Frank pulled out his cell. “Come on. Let’s find a signal. I think Rex is ready for us to call for help now.”

  17

  OUTGOING

  FRANK

  I WATCHED AS REX WAS hoisted up the steep incline. The moaning man was strapped inside a basket that was being hauled up by a truck winch. Paramedics followed through the former crash site. At the top, the dark mountain road was awash in flashing police car and ambulance lights.

  By the time Joe and I had climbed to the mountain road, a park ranger had just pulled up. It turned out that the campers at the other site had already called to report the gunshots. Being at the hilltop campsite had its advantages, including better cell reception.

  It didn’t take long before the woods were swarming with police and park rangers. Joe had given them a full report and had led them to the bear traps, Rex’s camp, and all the game cameras.

  Luckily, Chief Olaf hadn’t been among the responding authorities. Joe and I were relieved that Bayport’s chief of police didn’t get out of bed in the dead of night to respond to a disturbance in the middle of the woods. Even if it was a somewhat unusual disturbance.

  I watched everything from afar. Benny and I had stayed deeper in the forest to keep the apes calm. None of the primates seemed ready to escape, though. They were mesmerized by the buzzing activity and flashing lights. That is, the gorilla and the chimp were; the orangutan was fawning over Benny in his beast costume. His long arms were still wrapped tightly around our friend’s legs.

  “Is he ever going to let go?” Benny whispered.

  “Didn’t you always want a little brother?” I asked.

  After a while, Joe approached with one of the park rangers. The young woman wore a tan-and-green ranger uniform and had long, dark braids pulled back in a ponytail.

  “Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked my brother.

  “Yeah, come on,” said Joe. “Just no sudden moves.”

  The woman stepped into the shadows and gazed at my new friends. “Oh, wow,” she whispered. “They’re wonderful.” She cocked her head when her eyes fell on Benny. “Ben, is that you?”

  Benny’s head dropped. “Yes, Ms. Mosby.”

  The ranger looked him up and down. “Why are you dressed like that?” she asked. “And what’s with the stuff around your eyes? You look like a raccoon.”

  “Let me guess.” Joe pointed to the ranger. “This is your secret beast contact?”


  Benny nodded.

  I nudged his arm. “Are you going to tell her or shall I?”

  “Tell me what?” Ranger Mosby asked.

  “I—I’m dressed as the Bayport Beast,” he said. “Or, I was.” Benny went on to explain how he had roamed the park in order to drum up interest for the beast and for his new product line.

  “Ben Williams, you should be ashamed of yourself.” The ranger crossed her arms. “No more tips for you, young man.”

  “Yeah, I thought so,” he replied. “I think I’m done with the Bayport Beast anyway.”

  The ranger pointed to the orangutan at Benny’s side. “I don’t think she’s done with you.”

  Joe and I looked at each other. “She?” we asked in unison.

  Ranger Mosby nodded and glared at Benny. “And when the people from the primate sanctuary get here, I’m going to tell them they have four to pick up.”

  The ranger left to join the others.

  Joe pointed to the road above. “So, the rangers said that Rex’s wreck happened a week ago. That means the apes have been roaming the forest since then. But that still doesn’t explain all the other sightings over the years. How do you explain those?”

  I shrugged. “Bears.”

  Joe shook his head. “You have no imagination.”

  My brother was wrong. I peered into the dark woods and imagined two eyes gazing back at me, some lonely creature hidden away, tucked into the shadows, remaining forever unseen. Remaining a mystery.

  Maybe what I saw that first day in the woods was one of the escaped apes. It probably was. But then again, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’d caught a glimpse of the real Bayport Beast.

  I smiled. I think my brother was right. It is more fun to live in a world where many of these fantastic creatures might, just might exist.

  Of course, there’s no way I’m telling Joe that. I’d never hear the end of it.

  FRANKLIN W. DIXON is the ever-popular author of the Hardy Boys series of books.

  ALADDIN

  SIMON & SCHUSTER, NEW YORK

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