Phantoms

As the lieutenant piled boxes of ammunition on the table, Jenny gave the Magnum a close inspection. “This is a real monster, isn't it?”

“Yeah. You could stop a Brahman bull with that one.”

“Looks as if Paul kept everything in first-rate condition.”

“You handle guns like you know all about them,” the lieutenant said, putting more ammunition on the table.

“Always hated guns. Never thought I'd own one,” she said. “But after I'd been living up here three months, we started having trouble with a motorcycle gang that decided to set up a sort of summer retreat on some land out along the Mount n Road.”

“The deamon Chrome.”

“That's them,” Jenny said, “Rough-looking crowd.”

“That's putting it kindly.”

“A couple of times, when I was making a house call at night, over to Mount Lamn or Pineville, I got an unwanted motorcycle escort. They rode on each side of the car, too close for safety, grinning in the side windows at me, shouting at me, waving, being foolish. They didn't actually try anything, but it sure was…”

“Threatening.”

“You said it. So I bought a gun, learned how to shoot it, and got a permit to carry.”

The lieutenant began to open the boxes of ammunition. “Ever have occasion to use it?”

“Well,” she said, “I never had to shoot anyone, thank God. But I did have to show it once. It was just after dark. I was on my way to Mount Larson, and the Demons gave me another escort, but this time it was different. Four of them boxed me in, and they all started slowing down, forcing me to slow down, too. Finally, they brought me to a complete stop in the middle of the road.”

“That must've given your heart a good workout.”

“Did it ever! One of the Demons got off his bike. He was big, maybe six feet three or four, with long curly hair and a beard. He wore a bandanna around his head. And one gold earring. He looked like a pirate.”

“Did he have a red and yellow eye tattooed on the palm of each hand?”

“Yes! Well, at least on the palm he put against the car window when he was looking in at me.”

The lieutenant leaned against the table on which they had placed the guns. “His name's Gene Teer. He's the leader of the Demon Chrome. They don't come much meaner. He's been in the slammer two or three times but never for anything serious and never for long. Whenever it looks as if Jester's going to have to do hard time, one of his people takes the blame for all the charges. He has an incredible hold on his followers. They'll do anything he wants; it's almost as if they worship him. Even after they're in jail, Jeeter takes care of them, smuggling money and drugs in to them, and they stay faithful to him. He knows we can't touch him, so he's always infuriatingly polite and helpful to us, pretending to be an upstanding citizen; it's a big joke to him. Anyway, Jeeter came over to your car and looked in at you?”

“Yes. He wanted me to get out, and I wouldn't. He said I should at least roll down the window, so we wouldn't have to shout to hear each other. I said I didn't mind shouting a little. He threatened to smash the window if I didn't roll it down. I knew if I did, he'd reach right inside and unlock the door, so I figured it was better to get out of the car willingly. I told him I'd come out if he'd back off a little. He stepped away from the door, and I snatched the gun from under the seat. As soon as I opened the door and got out, he tried to move in on me. I jammed the muzzle into his belly. The hammer was pulled back, fully cocked; he saw that right away.”

“God, I wish I'd seen the look on his face!” Lieutenant Whitman said, grinning.

“I was scared to death,” Jenny said, remembering, “I mean, I was scared of him, of course, but, I was also scared I might have to pull the trigger. I wasn't even sure I could pull the trigger. But I knew I couldn't let Jeeter see I had any doubts.”

“If he'd seen, he'd have eaten you alive.”

“That's what I thought. So I was very cold, very firm. I told him that I was a doctor, that I was on my way to see a very sick patient, and that I didn't intend to be detained. I kept my voice low. The other three men were still on their bikes, and from where they were, they couldn't see the gun or hear exactly what I was saying. This Jeeter looked like the type who'd rather die than let anyone see him take any orders from a woman, so I didn't want to embarrass him and maybe make him do something foolish.”

The lieutenant shook his head. “You sure had him pegged right.”

“I also reminded him that he might need a doctor some day. What if he took a spill off that bike of his and was lying on the road, critically injured, and I was the doctor who showed up — after he'd hurt me and given me good reason to hurt him in return? I told him there are things a doctor can do to complicate injuries, to make sure the patient has a long and painful recovery. I asked him to think about that.”

Whitman gaped at her.

She said, “I don't know if that unsettled him or whether it was simply the gun, but he hesitated, then made a big scene for the benefit of his three buddies. He told them I was a friend of a friend. He said he'd met me once, years ago, but hadn't recognized me at first. I was to be given every courtesy the Demon Chrome could extend. No one would ever bother me, he said. Then he climbed back on his Harley and rode away, and the other three followed him.”

“And you just went on to Mount Larson?”

“What else? I still had a patient to see.”

“Incredible.”

“I will admit, though, I had the sweats and the shakes all the way to Mount Larson.”

“And no biker has ever bothered you since?”

“In fact, when they pass me on the roads around here, they all smile and wave.”

Whitman laughed.

Jenny said, “So there's the answer to your question: Yes, I know how to use a gun, but I hope I never have to shoot anyone.”

She looked at the.357 Magnum in her hand, scowled, opened a box of ammunition, and began to load the revolver.

The lieutenant took a couple of shells from another carton and loaded a shotgun.

They were silent for a moment, and then he said, “Would you have done what you told Gene Teer?”

“What? Shoot him?”

“No. I mean, if he'd hurt you, maybe raped you, and then if you'd later had a chance to treat him as a patient… would you have…?”

Jenny finished loading the Magnum, clicked the cylinder into place, and put the gun down. “Well, I'd be tempted. But on the other hand, I have enormous respect for the Hippocratic Oath. So… well… I suppose this means I'm just a wimp at heart — but I'd give Jeeter the best medical care I could.”

“I knew you'd say that.”

“I talk tough, but I'm just a marshmallow inside.”

“Like hell,” he said, “Me way you stood up to him took about as much toughness as anybody has. But if he'd hurt you, and if you'd later abused your trust as a doctor just to get even with him… well, that would be different.”

Jenny looked up from the.38 that she'd just taken from the array of weapons on the table, and she met the black man's eyes. They were clear, probing eyes.

“Dr. Paige, you have what we call 'the right stuff.’ If you want, you can call me Tal Most people do. It's short for Talbert.”

“All right, Tal. And you can call me Jenny.”

“Well, I don't know about that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“You're a doctor and all. My Aunt Becky — she's the one who raised me — always had great respect for doctors. It just seems funny to be calling a doctor by his… by her first name.”

“Doctors are people too, you know. And considering that we're all in sort of a pressure cooker here—”

“Just the same,” he said, shaking his head.

“If it bothers you, then call me what most of my patients call me.”

“What's that?”