Troop 402. Donald Ph.D. Ladew

Troop 402 - Donald Ph.D. Ladew


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the grave.

      "Old man, do you want to say anything?" McChesney asked.

      "No, I've never been a church goer."

      "I'll read from the Bible." Alvin had brought his from the shelter. "Is that okay with everybody?"

      "Yes, that's fine," Sherry answered for all of them.

      Alvin opened his Bible to Psalms. His voice was tired, too old for eleven years.

      "The Lord is my shepherd...I shall not want...he maketh me to lie down..." Alvin read slowly, sounding out the words he wasn't sure of.

      "Amen," Sherry said. "You read that very well, Alvin. Now I think we should all go back to the camp and eat a little something. Then maybe we can decide what to do."

      Alvin was very quiet through their make shift meal. They ate dried fruit bars and dry cereal with water and one apple each.

      When they were finished Alvin got out his note book and began writing.

      Sherry started it off. "The only camping I've ever done was in my back yard with a bunch of my girlfriends. I wish I had but that's it, that's all I know about survival in the woods."

      "Well, Miss, the only forest I've ever been in was Central Park," Tony said, "and there's only two things you have to worry about there. If you're moving you'll probably get mugged and if you stand still someone will probably paint you over with graffiti."

      McChesney had never spent any time in the woods but he wasn't going to admit it.

      "I think we should stay with the plane. Someone's bound to send out people to search for us. I don't want to get lost in the woods and find out someone came to the plane and we weren't here."

      "That's a bad idea," it didn't occur to Alvin that his statement wouldn't set well. He wasn't old enough to know how to make someone swallow a pill they didn't want to take.

      "In the first place I don't think anyone knows where we are. I'd bet money we're in Canada."

      "C'mon, Kid, you can't know that. We started out in Boise, that's in the southern end of Idaho. We would have been flying west."

      "Nope, the storm blew us north west, a long way north. Look at how the plane is lying." He tapped the face of his watch with the compass. "I checked the heading, we were going north."

      "I'm afraid he's right," Sherry said. "An hour before we crashed First Officer Neilsen told me all the communication and navigation equipment had been destroyed by the first lightning strike, and we were being blown north by the storm."

      "Even so, they'll figure it out. Those search guys are smart."

      "Even if they do, that's not our major problem. Look at the trees. This is first growth forest, very old. When I was at the plane I couldn't see the tops of the trees, so how do you think a search plane is going to find the wreck.

      "We're up over six, seven thousand feet. It's very cold. People who are cold need to eat more. We only have a small amount of food, maybe enough for three, four days. When people get hungry, and cold they get run down and make mistakes."

      Alvin looked at his notes.

      "We have to get off this mountain as soon as we can. I think we should go down until we find a stream or river and follow that down. People settle along rivers, it's the best way to find help. Another thing, if it turns much colder we could have snow..."

      "It's a stupid idea," McChesney sneered. "What about the old man, he's got a heart condition. You think tramping through the forest is going to help?"

      Alvin had thought about it. It was a constant worry. He started to flare up then eased back.

      "Being at high altitude means the heart has to work harder. No, the best way is to go down."

      "Look, McChesney you don't speak for me," Tony said. "I agree with Alvin."

      "Do what you want old man, I'm staying here."

      Alvin lost his temper. "It's no use talking to you. Steroids have rotted your brain." Alvin got up and stalked off toward the plane muttering.

      "Asshole kid, I've never taken a steroid in my life. His famous forest ranger father should have taken a stick to him."

      "Don't even think about it sport." Tony got up and followed Alvin in to the trees.

      McChesney looked across the fire at Sherry. She was shaking her head sadly. "Damn...I'm sorry, that kid gets under my skin. He's such a know-it-all."

      She just shook her head, got up and took the pots to the brook. McChesney looked after her.

      Tony found Alvin standing outside the plane pacing back and forth snapping his fingers nervously. He had already forgotten about the argument with McChesney.

      He turned as Tony walked up. "Hi, Tony," he started pacing back and forth again. "It's driving me crazy. I saw something that we need and I can't remember what it is."

      "Well if it has anything to do with food, I'm your man."

      "Hah! That's it." Alvin walked over to the part of the plane where the skin had been ripped off. He grabbed a section of tube about a half inch thick. "This is what I want."

      He took out his tool kit and began disassembling the section of pipe. When he'd got out a long straight section, he examined it inside and out carefully.

      "It's perfect."

      "Great. You mind telling me what this thing has to do with food?"

      Alvin laughed. "Sure. I'm going to make a blowgun. If you look in the drawers in the galley you'll find some place mats made from stiff paper. Now I have to find some wire, something I can turn into a dart."

      Tony climbed into the plane and moved to the galley. Alvin stared at the open doorway to the flight deck. He wanted to look around but hated the idea even though the bodies were gone.

      He gritted his teeth and did what had to be done. The whole front end of the plane had been crushed forward into the pilot and copilot's seat. Behind the pilot's seat was a small locker, the door of which had broken open.

      There was a 9mm automatic in a holster in a slot in the bottom underneath a fur-lined leather jacket. He didn’t know that it was illegal for the pilot to have a gun on the plane and certainly didn’t care. He looked around in the small locker and found two extra clips of ammunition. He put the gun and extra shells in the pocket and put the jacket on. It bothered him that the jacket belonged to a dead man but he knew that anything they kept for warmth could be important.

      There was another locker on the copilot's side, and in the bottom of it Alvin found a Very Pistol and four flares. That, he would definitely take along although he doubted they'd have any reason to fire it for a long time. He also found a Swiss army knife much like his own. That was a real find.

      He spent the rest of the morning with Tony making darts for the blowgun. Alvin was very patient. Tony tried to get him to go outside and at least try the damn thing out.

      "What if you get all these things made and find out they don't work?" Tony asked.

      "They'll work." Alvin kept on rolling the stiff paper is cones around slender pieces of sharpened copper. The copper was part of the electrical system.

      "You must have thirty of those things."

      "Don't matter. I'm not that good ‘a shot, we'll lose a lot of them."

      When he'd completed fifty he went to the door of the plane and looked around. He picked a smallish tree about twenty feet away, loaded one of the darts into the aluminum tube, aimed it at the tree, took a deep breath and blew as hard as he could.

      They were both surprised at the result. Alvin had thought it would work but he didn't know how well. The dart hit the center of the tree and went in deep.

      "Wow! That's something Alvin. What are you gonna shoot with it?" Tony asked.

      "Oh, rabbits...squirrels, maybe birds."

      Alvin


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