Troop 402. Donald Ph.D. Ladew
a concussion. Can you tell me if the plane had any emergency supplies on board, you know, in case there was a crash?"
"Oh, yes, of course, all airplanes are required to have them. There's a door in the floor of the galley, everything's stored down below."
Alvin got up to leave.
"Do you have to leave now? Can't you get some rest first?"
Alvin looked toward the rear of the shelter. "No I want to get it done before steroid brains wakes up." Tony chuckled and Sherry frowned.
In the back of the shelter, Prince McChesney closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Alvin grabbed the tow rope and hauled the aluminum sled off through the forest. It was getting lighter. Rain was still falling, more like a heavy mist, but the worst of the storm was definitely over.
Back at the shelter Tony and Sherry talked quietly. "You know what he's going to do, don't you," Tony asked.
"No...I mean, what he said, I guess, get more things from the plane."
"Yeah, he's going to do that, but he's also got to do something about the pilot and copilot. I'm beginning to get a feel for our leader." He chuckled sadly. "Somewhere that boy learned responsibility...and he learned it a long time before most of us do. There's no way he'll leave until he's done something about them."
"Oh, he mustn't...it'll...it could be terrible. It shouldn't be something a boy has to do."
"Did you know them, you know, the pilot and copilot?"
"Yes, Captain Duckhorn was very nice, always helpful and Mr. Neilsen, the Navigator, he worried about everything."
"Not any more," Tony said grimly.
Chapter 3
Alvin emptied the last of the goods stored below the galley and carried them out to the sled. Then he spent an hour cutting lengths of wire cable from the body of the plane. The rain had stopped and it was light enough so he could see without his flashlight.
He sat on the ground near the body of the aircraft and stared. A long section of the outer skin had been torn off exposing the skeleton. Wires and ducts of all sizes were exposed. There was something important there but it wouldn't come.
Beneath all his study, all the work, was the task he couldn't confront.
Why can't Tony do it? He's probably seen dead guys before. Why not the Incredible Hulk? He felt like a whiner and a wimp and hated it.
Back at the camp McChesney had gotten up and left the shelter with a cloth and soap. He made no comment about the fact that his luggage was in the shelter. He didn't ask how it got there and he avoided looking at Tony and Sherry, didn't even say good morning.
When he got back Sherry made him a cup of coffee.
Tony had had enough of his sullen silence. "What's the matter with you, boy, can't you say thank you when somebody does something nice for you?"
He scowled at Tony. "Look, I know what you think...you think I'm just a dumb guy pumped up on steroids whose afraid of his own shadow."
"Huh...what the hell has that got to do with anything. I didn't make your coffee, she did. I don't give a damn what you think about me, but being rude to a lady really stinks, buster."
McChesney flushed under the old man's stare. He turned to Sherry. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong. Somehow I don't seem to be able to do anything right. I appreciate your making the coffee...and if you brought my luggage, Mr. Genoa, I appreciate that too."
"Don't worry about it so much," Sherry said. "None of us are at our best. Alvin brought all the stuff from the plane. He built a sled out of a piece of the airplane's skin. Would you do something for me?"
"Sure, anything you want, except get in a plane again."
"No, you won't have to do that. Well, for a very short while maybe. Alvin went back to the plane to get some more stuff. Tony and I think he's going to try to get Captain Duckhorn and Mr. Neilsen out...you know to bury them."
"Jesus, he's just a kid, he shouldn't do that."
"Finally, something we agree on," Genoa was still angry.
"I know, "Sherry said.
"Look, McChesney,” Genoa growled, “that boy is like anyone else. He does what his history, his training tells him he has to do. He probably thinks about his father, and does what his father would want him to do. You didn't offer to help and he won't ever ask. One of you better change. You're the adult. Was it me, I'd go see what I could do to help. You can believe it or not but we're going to need that boy if we're going to get out of this mess alive."
McChesney looked at the old man for a long moment, nodded, got up and walked off through the trees.
"That fella's got a lot to learn...trouble is there isn't going to be much time to learn it."
Alvin sat on the floor in front of the door leading into the cockpit. He tried to think the whole thing through, but to think the unthinkable wasn't working.
I've just got to do it. I can't leave them there.
He got up slowly, walked to the door and turned the handle. The door was warped and stuck. He yanked harder. It let go suddenly pushed open by the weight of Captain Duckhorn's upper body which flopped limply to the deck in front of Alvin.
He jumped back and shouted with fright. He couldn't get his breath. Alvin took two more steps back and stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from hollering again. He bit down so hard he drew blood.
He turned his back on the awful sight lying on the floor, sat down and rocked, back and forth beating his knees with his fists.
The pilot of Flight 402 wasn't recognizable any more. His whole upper body had been mangled.
Alvin tried not to cry but he couldn't stop it. In the midst of his grief he apologized over and over. That was the way McChesney found him, crying, hiccoughing, apologizing.
McChesney stayed out side and waited until Alvin's despair subsided. He stepped back in the trees and broke a limb noisily.
"Anybody in there? Hey, Kid, you around here?" He walked up to the door. "Oh, damn...hey c'mon out of there. I'm going to need some help."
Alvin walked to the door. He couldn't bring himself to look at the remains of their pilot.
"Hey, I know it's a waste, but I need some pieces of this chute to wrap the bodies in. Can you cut them for me? Make them six, seven feet long and four feet wide. Take it easy, okay. I know how to do this, I used to have a job as an ambulance driver. I seen a lot of guys who were ...you know messed up. If you can find something I can use to tie the canvas around their bodies it would help."
Alvin nodded. "Okay..." his voice was still strained, hoarse from crying.
It took McChesney an hour to get the two bodies out and wrapped in the pieces of canvas. Alvin cut lengths of wire from the exposed electrical harnesses and McChesney used them to hold the canvas in place.
He faced away from the boy not wanting him to see the blood that had gotten all over his clothes.
"You stay here with them, kid, I've got to take care of something. I won't be long. You wouldn't have a shovel in that pack of yours by any chance?"
"Yes, I've got a trenching tool."
"You go get it then. I'll be along in a bit. There's a flat area on the other side of the brook. We'll bury them there and put a pile of rocks over the bodies. I guess you've been worried the animals might get at them."
Alvin nodded and left.
McChesney looked after him. "Well, that's one thing you don't know about, Mr. Boy Scout."
It took the rest of the morning to dig graves and pile rocks on top. Alvin made crosses and put one at the head of each grave. Sherry and Tony had come down to help. The four of them stood