Turbulence. Dana Mentink
I can wait until the plane is unloaded.”
“At least put boots on if you’ve got them.” He pointed to her feet. “Frostbite sets in quickly, and we’ve been in the snow for a while now. I’m glad I found mine.” He looked as though he was going to cry for a moment.
The emotion unsettled her. To give herself something to do, she fished through the blackened carry-on until she found socks and her snow boots. The irony stung. She’d planned a long walk with her sister after their father’s surgery was completed. A time when they could share their grief, but with the added promise of a more hopeful future.
She yanked on the boots. She’d have it all, just like she’d planned.
Though her feet were numb with the cold, it was a relief to have the thick soles between her toes and the rapidly piling snow. Dr. Wrigley stiffened, his eyes riveted to the twisted remnants of the plane.
“What?” she said, trying to follow his gaze.
She saw Jaden and Paul dive out of the opening into the pile of luggage they’d retrieved.
After a few seconds’ delay, the structure erupted into an orange fireball. It was an explosion that deafened Maddie, and she threw her hands around her head as the air became unbearably hot.
When the noise and heat subsided enough for her to raise her face, she was relieved to see Jaden and Paul heaving themselves to their feet. Each man grabbed an armful of rescued belongings and made their way back to join the others.
Maddie couldn’t wait for them to cross the hundred yards. She ran and met them, nerves tingling, stomach constricted. “Did you get it out? Did you get the Berlin Heart?”
Jaden wiped a sooty hand across his face but didn’t answer.
“Tell me,” Maddie all but shrieked. “You found it, didn’t you?”
Paul made a small movement toward her. “Yes, we found it.”
Her breath whooshed out of her, the relief so profound she could feel it in every pore of her body. “Thank goodness. Where is it?”
“Maddie…” Paul said.
They weren’t carrying the box. It must be in the pile they hurled just before the plane exploded. She darted toward the wreck, shielding her face from the heat. “I’ve got to move it away from the fire.”
Paul put the gear down and followed her. “Maddie, it’s not there.”
She continued on, eyes searching, straining for a glimpse of the metal box. “Leave me alone, Paul.”
He spoke louder. “We couldn’t get it.”
The intensity finally penetrated. “What do you mean? You said you found it.”
Paul looked at her and she could see the flames mirrored in his eyes.
“The metal shell of the tail section collapsed in on itself while we searched. It’s welded shut from the heat. We couldn’t get to it. We couldn’t save your father’s heart.”
FOUR
Paul ignored the snow that fell in a steady curtain around him. He had eyes only for Maddie and the anguish that played over her face. She took a step backward and he thought she would tumble, so he reached out a hand for her.
She stiffened. “Please,” she whispered. “Leave me alone.” She turned and walked to the shelter of a thick pine tree. Her shoulders slumped, head down, defeat written in the lines of her body.
Paul started after her, but Jaden stopped him. “Let her have a minute, Dr. Ford.”
“She’s hurting.”
Jaden shrugged. “If we don’t come up with a plan here pretty quick, it isn’t going to matter.”
Paul stared at Jaden and then at Dr. Wrigley, who cradled his shoulder and grimaced. The snow fell harder, piling into puffs around them. The sky darkened to a dull slate, though Paul’s cracked watch showed the time to be just after noon. He shot one more glance at Maddie. She hadn’t moved. He fought the urge to go to her. It was time to start thinking triage, prioritize what they would need to do to keep all four of them alive. “Okay. Let’s talk this out.”
Jaden nodded. “Search-and-rescue is probably mobilizing, but it may take a while for them to find us, and there’s a storm coming, so they won’t risk losing aircraft. I’m guessing we’re on our own at least until morning.”
Paul raised an eyebrow. “You former military or something?”
A glimmer of a smile played on Jaden’s lips. “You wouldn’t believe the great training Heartline provides its employees.”
Paul folded his arms. “Uh-huh.” He turned his focus to the surroundings. The temperature was dropping steadily, and exposure would kill them first. He scanned the terrain. Steep snow-covered slopes rose on either side, studded with enormous trees. The main body of the plane was now completely engulfed in flame, belching out toxic smoke into the thin air.
Paul reviewed the survival training he’d taken in his backpacking phase. “Shelter first. We’ve got to find something to get us out of the storm.” As he spoke, he removed his belt and buckled it into a circle. He hung it over Wrigley’s neck and helped him gingerly rest his injured arm in the makeshift sling. Wrigley nodded his thanks, his face pained.
Jaden grunted. “Right. Dr. Wrigley, keep moving around, see if you can get a signal on your phone. It’s doubtful, but worth trying.” He pointed to a ridge of rock that thrust upward through the snow. “Let’s check there for any kind of covered area.”
“I’m on it.” Paul made sure Maddie was still safe under the tree before he plowed through the snow toward the shadowed rocks. Sinking to his knees every few steps, Paul floundered along until he reached the base of the rock which had long ago tumbled loose from the towering mountain peak. He picked his way from one rock—up and over—onto the next, in search of some indentation, any kind of rocky depression that might screen them from the elements.
He slipped on an iced-over patch and loosened a shower of rubble that rained down onto the snow.
Careful, Ford. Let’s not get taken out by a bunch of rocks, especially when you just survived a plane crash. That part still seemed surreal. Had the pilot really said he’d been drugged? The sinister notion added to the tension in his gut, but Paul put them away for later. He had to find shelter for Maddie.
What scared him more than the crash, more than the notion that someone wanted them to die, was the defeat on her face. The Berlin Heart was lost, and it seemed her father was, too. Could she live through it? After the death of her nieces?
He climbed over a sharp projection of rock. Part of Maddie had died the day the children did, and truth be told, part of him had, as well. He’d lost some of his confidence—some might say arrogance—when he could not save those girls. He shook the thought away, along with a clump of snow that attached itself to his neck.
Help me find a way, Lord.
The snow coated his hair now, freezing his coat stiff against his complaining muscles and aching ribs. Dropping down behind a pile of black rock, he found nothing, just a smooth blanket of white. It reminded him of backpacking trips with his big brother, Mark, especially the time Paul broke his foot, diving into a tree trunk hidden in the water, and Mark carried him five miles back to their uncle’s place, cracking jokes all the while. Mark was always quick with a one-liner, even now that they only saw each other across a scarred table in the prison visiting area, but Paul saw the pain in his brother’s eyes.
The question that haunted him daily surfaced in his mind. Would things have been different if Mark hadn’t been exposed to his uncle’s cavalier attitude toward alcohol at a vulnerable time in his life?
You’re a physician, Paul. You know that alcoholism is a disease that can affect people anywhere, anytime, regardless of the situation.