The Daughter Dilemma. Ann Evans
helicopter shook as though it was coming apart. Although she couldn’t see anything out the front windscreen, Kari knew the ground was coming up fast in spite of all Addy’s best efforts. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, God.”
“Hang on,” Addy warned her. “Hang on.” She had pushed back in her seat, bracing, both hands tight on the controls. “Flatten the glide path, Addy. Raise your collective. Keep your nose up, damn it!”
The earth rushed toward them.
Addy shouted at her through the headset. “If we hit hard enough to split the skids, then our bodies are going to take the force of the impact. Get ready.”
The helicopter landed suddenly.
Nothing could have prepared Kari for how crushing it was, how loud, how completely terrifying. Her spine jolted. Her teeth came down hard and cut into her lip, filling her mouth with blood. Something struck her against the right temple. Beside her, Addy D’Angelo gave a short yelp of pain. Above them, the rotor blades still turned, but things banged. Rattled. Screeched in protest.
There was a moment of absolute stunned silence as both of them realized that they hadn’t been instantly killed. That they might even survive this.
Then Addy moaned.
“Addy,” Kari said, reaching out to touch the woman’s arm. “Are you all right?”
Addy jerked away from that contact with a gasp. “Got to shut down. Get us cooled off.” She sounded disoriented and when she reached for the switches, she moaned again. “Oh damn, I think my arm’s broken. Maybe both of them.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“Get out. Leg it out of here.”
“No!” Kari told her. “Tell me what to do.”
With her chin, Addy motioned toward the floor on Kari’s side. “The fire extinguisher. By your right foot. Do you know how to use one?”
Kari reached for it immediately. It looked no bigger than a bottle of shaving cream. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll shut down what I can up here. Can you move? Get out and go to the back of the fuselage. The engine’s below. Don’t touch it. Just spray the hell out of it until the canister’s empty. Understand?”
Quickly, Kari unfastened her seat belt and slipped the helicopter’s door latch. The ground wasn’t flat and it took a moment for her to find her feet. The craft sat slightly cock-eyed on a scattered field of rocks, but at least it seemed to be in one piece. From what Kari could see, in spite of what Addy had feared, the landing struts hadn’t separated from the fuselage.
It was still raining lightly and Kari shivered with cold. Or maybe it was shock. She realized her hands were shaking, too. So badly she could hardly pull the pin out of the extinguisher. Setting her teeth, she did as Addy had told her. Yellow chemicals sprayed out to cover the engine. When the can finally emptied with a dribbling hiss, she tossed it away. By the time she managed to stumble back inside the cabin, her hands weren’t the only part of her that trembled.
She slid into her seat, hearing the quick rise and fall of her own shallow breaths as they competed with the pounding of her heart. “I did it. Now what?” she asked, though she hoped the answer required no more than the strength she possessed right now.
“Good,” Addy said. “Just give me a minute.”
Kari looked at her companion. She held both her arms against her body like a surgeon who’d just scrubbed for surgery. Her face was pale, but there was no blood anywhere, thank God.
Twisting in her seat, Kari leaned closer. “Let me help you.” Addy’s left arm looked normal, but there was a good-size knot just past the wrist of her right one. “Do you really think they’re broken?” Kari asked with a grimace.
“I don’t know.” Addy frowned at her. “Your forehead is bleeding.”
Gingerly, Kari touched her temple. She could feel a lump forming—it hurt like hell—but when she brought her hand away, there was only a little watery blood on her fingertips.
“I’ll survive,” she said. “Looks like we both will.”
“I can’t believe we crashed.” Addy’s voice sounded sketchy and a little wild. “And that we didn’t die. Although we might as well have. Nick’s going to kill me.”
“After what we just went through, we can deal with him.”
Kari leaned across the back of the seat, trying to ignore the throb of pain that suddenly stabbed along her spine. Her camping equipment lay all over the rear seats. She unzipped her pack and dug into the contents, pushing through nylon and tin and packages of freeze-dried food.
“What are you doing?” Addy asked.
When Kari finally found what she wanted, she settled back in her seat. She held up the tent stakes and masking tape she’d rescued from her gear. “I think we should try to splint your arms. Okay?”
Addy gave her a faint smile and nodded.
As gently as she could, Kari placed a tent stake against Addy’s right forearm, then wound the tape around it to hold the metal in place. The woman was a trooper. She set her jaw and didn’t make a sound except for one hiss of pain that escaped her dry, pale lips.
“So now what do we do?” Kari asked as she worked. “Do you think your brother heard you?”
“Even if he didn’t, the airport would have heard the Mayday. Assuming that the radio was still working. It’s definitely not now.”
“So we’ll just sit and wait to be rescued,” Kari said, trying for a lighter tone that might keep Addy’s mind off the pain in her arms.
The woman closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the seat. She suddenly looked so much younger, smaller. The cabin seemed to swallow her up.
“I’m so sorry, Kari,” she said in a thin, quavering voice. “My fault. Not rechecking the weather service was such a stupid mistake. It’s basic.”
“What are you talking about?” Kari reproached her. “You were magnificent. We’d never have survived this if you hadn’t been so calm and in control. Besides, it’s really my fault. I’m the one who took advantage of your kindness.”
Addy gave her a faint smile. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“No, I’m to blame here. My father was the most spontaneous man you’d ever want to meet, but even he used to complain about how impulsive I am, how disorganized. I could have planned this whole trip so much better. I could have come up here when I had more time to devote to it.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because…” Kari hesitated, then decided to tell the truth. After what she and Addy had just been through, the woman deserved nothing less. “Because today is the two-year anniversary of the day my father hiked into Elk Creek Canyon. I wanted to experience the same set of circumstances he did. Know exactly what he saw. It just seemed important somehow. A way to help me understand…how he could have died there.”
“I’m sorry,” Addy said again, sounding a little woozy.
“It’s all right,” Kari reassured her. Lightly she pressed the final piece of tape around her splint. “This is the best I can do under the circumstances. Let’s just rest now. There’s no point in beating ourselves up for what’s already done.”
That seemed to help a little. They settled back in their seats. Addy kept her eyes closed. Kari just kept staring out the front of the helicopter. Her temple throbbed. Muscles in her back began to protest. The only sounds were the soft exhalations of their own breaths, calmer now, no longer quick and charged with panic. They were cocooned in a puddle of light inside the aircraft, but outside everything looked as black as a deep well. At least the rain had let up.
Help