The Trouble with Rescuing Zoe, Page 2

  She started to fidget and the conversation grew quiet for a few minutes while the engines droned on.

  Harry cleared his throat. “I didn't mean to be so serious. What takes you out of Grand Junction?”

  Zoe didn’t respond, but fiddled incessantly, adjusting her air vent, her seatbelt, the zipper on her coat, and squirming in her chair. After a few moments, Harry pulled out a paperback from his coat and started reading.

  “M-My boyfriend isn’t a jerk.” Harry turned his head away from his book. “But I think he’ll be a jerk. I don't want to deal with it.”

  Harry hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. “Maybe you should talk it out, explain how you feel.”

  “It’s not a discussion he belongs in. But he won’t think so.”

  “Sounds like there’s something you haven’t told him. But again, maybe he won't be a jerk.”

  Scott chimed in. “Maybe he’ll just be a jerk for a little while. Think of it as a phase guys go through, before finally getting it right.”

  Harry reached over and put his hand on Zoe's shoulder, as he had done countless times to his own daughter. “Give your boyfriend the benefit of the doubt. Have faith that it will work out.”

  She flashed him a tight grin. “I've really got it all figured out. After all, I'm going to Harvard. I've got things to do. I've got my plans.”

  She was distressed. Harry removed his hand. “Okay. That's great.” He withdrew back to reading his paperback.

  After a little while, Zoe’s small voice interrupted him. “I don't want to talk about it. I don’t. I don't need anyone else involved.” She was wringing her hands.

  “I didn't mean to upset you. Please accept my apology.”

  She assumed a pained expression. Whatever she was keeping inside was like a balloon about to burst.

  She sighed. “An unexpected consequence.”

  Only seconds pass, but it seemed much longer.

  “My boyfriend was pretty persistent. And look at me now.” She swept a hand over her flat abdomen. “I’m pregnant.”

  Right after she dropped her bomb, Scott called his attention to outside the window.

  “Hey, Harry, isn't that Captain's Peak below?”

  Harry took a good long look. The peak was barely visible through the falling snow. “Yep. That's Captain's Peak. What’re we doing here?”

  Scott huffed. “I don't know. We’re off course, but we’ll head east. We'll be fine.”

  “Got enough fuel?”

  Scott consulted his gauge. “Plenty. We'll more than make it.”

  Harry turned his attention back to Zoe, who had remained frozen since being interrupted.

  “We’re going to be okay, right?” Her eyes were wide.

  “Yeah, these old planes have their problems, but we’re okay. Please continue.”

  “Did you hear what I said before? I’m pregnant. I shouldn’t have listened to my sweet talking boyfriend. I’m so angry.”

  Harry contemplated what to say. He looked down. “It’s not the preferred situation, but it’s not the first time this has happened. It can work out. I myself was born out of wedlock, and it worked out.”

  “Hey, wait a second. I’m not going to have it. I am not going to let my future turn into diapers. I've got plans and I'm not changing them.”

  Harry scratched his chin. “I don't know. You seem upset despite all your thinking.”

  She slashed a hand through the air. “It's just that if my mother knew, she would be against it.”

  “It?”

  “Ending the pregnancy.”

  Harry thought. “Is this the same reason you think your boyfriend will be a jerk?”

  “Yep. If they knew, they would all make my life miserable. But it’s my choice and I have made it.”

  In the ensuing silence, Zoe took a deep breath, released it, and her smiling disposition returned. “I feel much better. I’m sorry, but I just needed to say all this. Thanks for listening.”

  Harry shook his head. “I think I need to find a cave. You’re a sweet girl, can I say something.”

  “Don’t. I just needed to talk.”

  She held up her hand, palm facing Harry. “I’m over it. Let's go on to something else.”

  Harry picked up his paperback again, but just stared at it.

  Chapter 2

  Harry noticed Scott frantically pressing buttons. He flipped a switch on the radio several times. “Scott, how we doing?”

  “Not good. Ice is building on the wings and the radio’s down.”

  Zoe peeked over Scott’s shoulder.

  The horizon loomed too close to the plane for Harry’s peace of mind. “Scott, we’re too low!”

  “Crap. There’s too much ice on the wings.” He flipped another switch. “We’re losing altitude.”

  “Oh god.” said Zoe.

  She knew things were going south and fast.

  Harry looked out the window. “Scott, can we ditch somewhere?”

  Scott was no longer flying above the mountains, but maneuvering between two ridges. “Do you see anywhere flat? Shit, it's just so damn hard to see down there.” He carefully followed the ridges around a bend.

  They caught flashing glimpses of a snow-covered pass ahead with dense pines to either side.

  “I think we can clear the top,” Scott said.

  The engine droned on as they approached the pass. Scott wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and pushed the throttle to the max, but the plane barely lifted.

  Zoe mumbled to herself. “We’re going to make it. We’re going to make it.”

  The ground seemed to be rising. Suddenly they were above the belly of the pass. A wheel sliced through a mound of snow jerking the plane side to side. Through the window, tree trunks zoomed by as they raced toward the other side of the pass.

  Zoe leaned forward, clutching the seat in front of her. The wheels crashed through another rise of snow. The plane shook violently. Her seatbelt popped loose. She looked down with her eyes wide open. With one hand she struggled to hold on. With the other, she tried to snap the buckle in.

  Harry clutched his own belt and tested it. “We're not freakin’ going to make it.”

  Zoe screamed.

  Harry turned and looked out the side window. Is this it? For a moment he lost himself reflecting on this question.

  The plane roared ahead, trying to clear the top. The pass was piled with high snow—a two-story wall rising from the belly. Then they gasped at the inevitable. They crashed into the wall of snow.

  The plane shook. Harry heard a terrific and piercing metallic crunch behind his ear. His upper torso was thrown forward. He instinctively put his arms over his head as the seatbelt dug into his waist.

  He blinked, realizing the crash was over. He was still alive, but it was dark, except for a few faint emergency lights. The side windows were completely obscured by snow. The front window was shattered and packed, blood-soaked snow protruded inward. There was no way to get any clear bearings. He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He had the sense that up, through the snow, was out.

  A quick body scan—a little blood, nothing broken. He looked to his right to check on Zoe. Her seat was empty. A chill passed through him. Behind, he saw only snow. The tail section was ripped completely off. He gasped, she was surely dead. He stared into the snow until noises from Scott caused him to turn back around. Leaning forward, he watched Scott’s chest rise and fall in jerks. Otherwise, Scott didn’t move.

  His shirt was ripped and blood oozed from a deep gash. Scott was pinned.

  Harry looked into his eyes. “Scott.”

  He moaned, coughing up blood. However, he could speak and Harry talked with him. A few minutes went by. Both knew he wasn't going to make it. Scott became incoherent and thought he was home. Then mid-sentence, he stopped breathing.

  Harry was alone. His heart pounded. Looking around he took a few forced breaths. There was something in the air. It was gasoline. Not above feeling panicke
d he wanted to scream. He crawled quickly over the seats to the rear and began digging where the tail section had been. With his bare hands he dug, upward into the snow.

  He made progress but then hit something. The little light from the cabin hardly afforded much by which to see, but he could feel it was metal. Something was blocking him.

  The thought flashed that he was trapped. He swallowed and fought off again the urge to panic. Extending his arms up, he probed gently with his fingers around the metal. Suddenly it crashed down. The weight of the metal and snow pinned him to the floor.

  #

  Regaining her senses, Zoe sat up. She found herself outside. The crash was over and the silence was unnerving. Dazed, she glanced around. The tail section was just behind her. It stuck out of the snow, clearly torn from the main fuselage. There was no sign of the rest of the plane. In the distance, the sight of endless mountain tops ushered in a rising panic. A chill of a different sort ran through her bones—was she alone?

  The far side of the ledge was downward sloping. Chunks of snow kept breaking off, but she didn’t hear anything afterwards. She sensed it was a sheer edge.

  Zoe scooted over and leaned against the tail. Beyond the ledge were distant mountains. The edge she gathered was a straight drop, perhaps thousands of feet. The whole ledge felt unstable. Squinting, she made out bits of debris strewn across the snow's surface. She listened to the wind darting through the trees.

  Zoe became aware of her own breathing. Shivering from the cold, she watched her breath as she exhaled. A full moon had just entered the horizon. Though it was still daylight, she saw its diffused glow behind the clouds. An endless procession of large and lofty snowflakes danced their way downward, so uncaring of what had happened. The quiet was disorienting. She strained for even a faint sound of civilization.

  Zoe shifted a little and cried out at the throbbing pain in her arm. Her heart pounded, her breathing was rapid. Looking down, she carefully inspected her coat. It appeared intact. Still, she hesitated, not ready to take her arm out. Fear gripped her.

  Was she really stranded, alone, seriously injured? Though this echoed through her mind over and over, she tried to stay calm.

  She wiggled her fingers. A little pain. Encouraged, she unzipped her coat. Using her good arm, she carefully slid the sleeve off. She bit her lip at the cold that rushed in, but she needed to see. Gently she felt the area that hurt. Even slight pressure caused the pain to explode. She shuddered, but was relieved at no obvious break or blood.

  Zoe returned to the awareness and awe of the vastness around her and how alone she felt. Her mind numb, she just sat and stared. A small hump in the snow, down near the edge, caught her interest for a moment. Exhaling another breath, she peered into the white mist as it again dissipated. The hump seemed larger when she looked at it again. By the time her next breath dissipated, something poked through the hump. It moved, again and again, as if climbing straight up, out of the snowy depths. Dazed, she finally recognized the gun case.

  The case then leapt into the air and settled in the snow. Hallelujah. She was not alone. Wanting to move closer, she lifted her foot to get up. This tiny movement loosened some snow, which rolled down the slope, past the gun case and over the edge. In a heartbeat, movement lost its appeal. Her heart raced—she was terrified, not knowing what would happen next. All she could do was wait. Wait and watch.

  A hand shot up where the gun case had emerged. Snow was pushed aside and another hand appeared, holding a first aid kit. Someone was pushing snow out of their way, emerging from beneath. Little mounds accumulated as they worked, but one by one these too rolled and dropped silently off the edge.

  Finally, Harry's head poked out. Zoe sighed in relief. He was facing her. Cuts and scrapes covered his head and hand. He paused, and appeared to be gathering his breath.

  Zoe called out, but not loud enough to catch his attention.

  Harry chucked the first aid kit up the slope, then grabbed his gun case with both hands. Shoving it into the snow horizontally, he leaned on the case to lift himself, emerging bit by bit from the snowy depths. He repeated this several times, advancing the gun case up the slope, until he was fully out. He collapsed on the surface and just lay there, exhaustion in his features.

  Next, he carefully started dragging himself up the slope, still using the gun case as an anchor. Zoe could see he avoided applying even the slightest pressure with his feet for he must also fear breaking away and careening downward. The gun case gave him at least some chance of applying his weight against the snow. As Harry edged up, his leg left a bright red trail.

  She called out again, but Harry didn’t notice. He was apparently concentrating. Reaching the first aid kit, he grabbed it, offering her little more than a glance as he passed by. He crawled a bit further up to the bordering trees, finally making it off the slope. Trembling, he gradually stood and let out a huge sigh.

  Zoe’s cry for help was more forceful the third time. The unbearable throb in her arm might be bad enough to make her pass out. She attempted to stand up.

  “Don't! Don't stand up.”

  As if on cue, a rumble began underneath her and the entire shelf of snow shifted downward, opening up a narrow ominous fissure between her and safety.

  Harry knelt in the snow. “Lie down. Try to gently roll over here, but slowly. Avoid pushing with your feet.”

  She rolled and twisted her way to him, grimacing and moaning when she put pressure on her arm. Still trembling, Harry offered her a hand in getting up. They took a few steps into the woods and sat on a fallen tree. Another rumble inched the shelf of snow downward again.

  “I didn't know if you were going to make it.”

  She exhaled hard. “No kidding. I wondered, honestly, if these were my last moments. But I’m still here.”

  Harry patted her hand as they sat. “I'm glad. Are you okay?”

  “Just a really nasty bruise on my arm. Hurts like hell if you touch it. Gosh, I hope it’s not broken.”

  “Maybe a hairline fracture. Either way, just take it easy. Let it heal.”

  Harry noticed the trail of blood in the snow and followed it to his leg. “I’m bleeding.” He paused. “Strange, it doesn’t hurt.” He pulled up his pant leg, revealing a bloody gash just above his ankle.

  She winced. “Here, give me the first aid kit. I’ll dress it.”

  He pulled the kit from the snow, handing it to her.

  “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse. It’s not even bleeding much anymore.”

  She opened the case and took stock of its contents. “What about Scott? What’s he waiting for? Is he okay?”

  His voice was pained. “He's dead.”

  Zoe had been cleaning Harry’s wound with peroxide, but now continued in slow motion.

  Harry recounted his own trauma of the crash. Her heart clenched as Harry again suffered through a moment where he found it difficult to speak. Finally he put together a few words. “I’m going to miss him. Been friends a long time. I wonder if I can bury him?”

  She said nothing. Surely Harry knew that would be impossibly dangerous. She finished dressing the wound and they sat, giving him the space to reflect on the loss of his friend.

  “All that technology and this still happened. Damn.”

  She turned to Harry. “What technology?” He was still looking the other way in reflection.

  “Scott had upgraded the controls. Put it in himself.”

  “He did it himself?” Zoe was exasperated. “There are regulations. This plane obviously would never have been certified. What the hell was he doing taking passengers?”

  He snapped around. “Just settle down. He’s been flying long before you were born, one of the best. A top mechanic too.”

  She wasn’t going let this bullshit go unchallenged. “Shit. Look at what’s happened. He should never have been licensed.”

  He glared. “Are you blaming him?”

  Zoe was ready with her answer, but didn’t get the chan
ce.

  Much to her surprise he slumped down, his ire had waned. “We were off course, but that didn’t cause the crash. It was the ice on the wings. That’s why we couldn’t clear the pass.”

  Her voice was tense. “Well, who the hell else should have dealt with it?”

  “He did.” Harry sighed. “Shit happens. Did it ever occur to you that you are alive because of him. It could have been worse. We could be dead.”

  She rolled her eyes, but Harry didn’t engage further. Gradually, she calmed down and gradually his words sank in.

  “Sorry.”

  “This plane was fully certified. Let’s deal with real problems.”

  #

  Zoe looked around. Snow continued to fall and the sun had dipped behind the mountains, though there was still plenty of light. The wind picked up and howled.

  She looked to Harry who had opened the gun case, checking its contents.

  He took a long hard look in all directions.

  “We have to figure a way down. We’re pretty high up. And I don’t think they’ll look here. We are way off course.”

  She waited for him to say the next step, but he didn’t. He had re-entered that reflective state from earlier, and after a few minutes, she became uncomfortable, sensing Harry was thinking about something she may not want to hear. Her breathing accelerated, but finally he spoke.

  “If I go alone I will eventually get out. I know that. But with you, no experience, it will be risky and slow.”

  Her breath caught. “Are you thinking to leave me? I'll die.”

  “There’s food here. I can leave you with some while you wait to be rescued. I can get out and fetch help. Alone, I might make it in a week, before winter really sets in.” He cast a glance her direction. “With you, there’s a good chance we'll have to wait it out. Tough getting out in the winter, and spring is a long way away.”

  The wind had died down and the silence added to the tension. Then, loud rumbling abruptly shattered the calm. The entire shelf of snow started to move. Both of them turned and stared at the crash site. Smoke billowed out of the hole from which Harry had emerged. Two loud pops then startled them followed by whistling.

  She grabbed a hold of Harry’s arm. The shelf moved again and an explosion prompted her to lurch behind him. She peered over his shoulders as flames shot skyward, illuminating a grey plume of smoke quietly wafting up. It was but a brief surreal blink, both incredible and frightening. The flames finished their violent dance and then disappeared as if sucked into the ground.