by S A Ison
He tried to push the thoughts away and set another piece of wood on the stump. He brought the ax down hard. A week before his departure, he was blissfully unaware of how bad things would get. He’d been in the bathroom, in the stall, reading a newspaper. Lt. Colonel Blake Rondeau and Dr. Reece Torch, the lead and senior scientist walked into the restroom. Both men were talking and laughing.
“I’m impressed with the projections, Dr. Reece. I mean that. With the way Pythagoras looks now, it could do some serious damage. It looks to be a very valuable asset to the United States’ arsenal.” Blake announced, his corfam shoes clicking on the linoleum floor.
“I’d say in about two years, perhaps a little more, we can move that range to take out a small country. If we can get it into a satellite platform and into space, then there will be no limit. It is a spectacular concept. I really think we are on the brink.” Reece said and Miles had felt his ears and face burn. Dr. Reece was an ass kisser and though he was senior, he was nowhere near as talented as the people on his team. Miles had been under the impression that the project would be for small and surgical strikes. Not massive destruction. That had been the beginning of the end for Miles, his conscience and sense of moral duty could not let this project succeed.
Albert barked, bringing him out of his dark thoughts. He looked at the dog and the thoughts of the downed aircraft niggled at him.
“Fine, we’ll take a drive out and see what we can see.” He snorted at the dog. Walking to the entrance to his home, Miles opened the door to a small structure. From all appearances, it was a simple cabin, with little in it to steal or even bother with. There was a small closet that contained old army jackets and scarves, hats and other winter gear, it also had a hidden panel. He pressed the panel and a small wall slid to one side. It was the opening that led down into his home. He reached in and took the Jeep keys from the hook and slid them into his pocket. Going down into the living room, he picked up two small portable solar generators.
The Jackery solar generators were lightweight and easy to carry. He would set them in the sun while he went out. By the time he returned, they should be charged. He never let the charges go completely out in winter. Looking around the small living room, he turned and retraced his steps back up into the small cabin. He pressed the panel and the wall slid closed. He walked over to a large patch of sunshine and set the two generators down.
He pulled his Glock out and checked it, it was never off his person, living in the woods was dangerous, either from four legged predators or two legged ones. He’d only had trouble once, only a couple years after he had first arrived fifteen years ago. He had been out in his garden working when two men drove into his yard. By the look of them, they were bad people. Perhaps looking for a place to squat and do whatever it was they did on the shady side of the law. Miles had not had his weapon on him and had cursed himself.
The two men had gotten out of their vehicle, a beat down Ram, walked toward him. All Miles had was a hoe, but he had held it firm in his grip, waiting. The strangers eyed him cautiously.
“You live out here?” Asked a greasy cuss, with lank brown hair that curled around his filthy collar. The other man was bald, his head lumpy with scabs sprinkled on it.
“You’re on private property.” Miles stated bluntly.
The two men looked at each other then looked around and over at the small cabin.
“Ain’t much of a property and didn’t see no signs.” The bald man grinned, his teeth scummy and gray.
At that point, his dog, Einstein, came running out of the bushes, snarling and snapping. Miles took the opportunity to raise his hoe and swing it in a lethal arc at the man with the greasy hair. Caught by surprise, by the attack, both men fell back and ran to their truck. Miles took chase behind, swinging the hoe like a battle axe, giving a war cry, like his favorite character, Mr. Worf, on Star Trek, Next Gen. He brought the sharp edge of the hoe down on the hood of the truck, cutting a sharp gouge. The men peeled out and backward from Miles, and when the men had gone, Miles sank to the ground, Einstein hopping excitedly around him. That had been the last time Miles had walked out of his home unarmed.
He’d spent the last fifteen years buying various guns and rifles, from private owners, who had listed their sales via the want ads. Miles didn’t know if he’d ever need them, but if the government ever showed up, he’d want something to defend himself and his home. Or, if Pythagoras ever got off the ground, Miles was sure there would be some kind of retaliatory strike.
Walking toward the jeep, Miles patted his leg and Albert raced up to the old jeep. He’d traded his hog for the old jeep in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It was a straight up trade. No paperwork, no questions, just pink slips. The clutch stuck a bit, but otherwise, the vehicle ran well. He’d driven helter-skelter across the country, hoping that when he eventually got to his final destination, there would be no trail, no trace of him. He’d been so tempted to head north, to New York, but didn’t.
Albert barked as Miles turned onto the service road. It was hardly a road at all, and the state nor the local town cleared it. If he didn’t make trips out after a snow, he could be snowbound for months. As it was, he’d gone out the previous day to drive out to the nearest highway. The vehicle didn’t have a working heater and so he threw a blanket around Albert in the passenger’s seat. Miles wore insulated coveralls and a heavy goose down jacket. He also sported a bright orange knit cap. He didn’t want to be mistaken for a bear or deer by some lunatic hunter.
He knew he shouldn’t be going out, he rarely left home, but for food shopping. He had no communications with the outside world. He only went to town once or twice a month, or visited other nearby towns. He’d met local farmers, buying some of their produce. He was particularly fond of one woman, she sold jams and jellies. She reminded him of Lt. Tasha Yar, from Star Trek, though she was pleasantly plump. He found himself stopping by for a jar of jelly and a chat.
He had kept a low profile for fifteen years. He shouldn’t be breaking protocol now, but with his father upper most in his mind, he wanted see if he could find the crash site. Meeting local farmers was one thing, no danger there, but meeting rescue officials was another thing. He looked over at Albert, who seemed to be enjoying the ride. Albert had replaced Einstein, a loquacious Jack Russell. Though Albert looked a lot like his predecessor, he was a stoic dog. For a two-year-old, Albert was a calm dog.
The jeep bounce along the ruts in the road and Miles slowed down. He didn’t want to bounce Albert out of the vehicle. A smile played over his face, thinking of the excitement the dog would experience. His short stubby tail wagging wildly. Miles headed in the direction he thought the downed aircraft would have landed. He kept an eye out for any telltale smoke or debris. There were no other cars back in this area, too remote.
An hour later found Miles no closer to finding any sign of wreckage or smoke. Looking up at the sky, he noticed that clouds were gathering for a snow summit.
“Looks like we’ll have to shut this boondoggle down for now. We need to get back home before it starts to snow. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll come back out this way.” Miles turned the jeep around and headed for home.
Ω
Lewis and Clark National Forest, MT
Barking. There was a dog nearby. Was it in the plane? Perhaps in the belly, the cargo hold? Carefully, Phoenix lifted the unconscious Japanese man and took him to the small group. The blond man was looking better, more color in his cheeks.
“How’s everyone doing?” He asked Lydia. Her color was better as well.
“Good, this is Julian Zane, and this is Taya Inglesias.” Lydia introduced. Julian nodded slightly.
“Did you see my parents?” Taya asked, her lower lip trembling, her dark eyes large with hope.
“No Taya, I’m sorry, I didn’t.” He said and saw her face crumple into sorrow and Lydia pulled the girl into her arms. Her own face a mask of pain and sorrow.
“I heard a dog; I think that maybe there might be one trapped in the
cargo hold. Or maybe near the crash site. I’m going to see if I can get into the cargo hold. I’ll also see about throwing out luggage. If the rescuers don’t find us by tonight, it’s gonna get really cold. There are snow clouds coming our way. I have some boots for you Lydia, these will keep your feet warmer and dryer than what you’re wearing.” He said, seeing the protest forming on her lips. He looked pointedly at her feet, which were soaked through from the snow. He saw a shiver run through her but she held up a hand and accepted the boots.
“Wait for me and I’ll come with you and help you.” Lydia offered, pulling her bag to her and digging around. She pulled out a pair of white athletic socks. She stripped off her light blue shoes with a grimace and peeled the wet socks off and put them to the side. Her toes were pruned and wrinkled badly. There was a slight blue tinge to her skin. She put on the heavier dry socks and then the boots and looked up smiling slightly. It was a silent acknowledgment to his wisdom.
Phoenix bent, putting out a hand and she took it.
“Do you at least have gloves?” He asked her.
“Yeah, in my jacket pocket. I’ll put them on. How do you feel? You look a little pale.” Lydia asked.
“I hurt; I won’t lie. I think I pulled a bunch of muscles in my neck and back.”
“Maybe once we go through the cargo hold, we should maybe start a camp. If it’s going to snow like you said, I’d like some kind of a shelter.” Lydia said.
“Me too. Let’s see if we can find a way into the belly of this beast.” Phoenix said and began to walk around the trees and the wreckage. When he and Lydia got to the back of the fuselage, both let out a gasp of shock. Like some kind of otherworldly creature, with its belly ripped open and naked ribs exposed, the aircraft had been gutted. Nearly the entire belly of the plane had been ripped open. A twenty-foot gash laid the aircraft’s belly open. Jagged metal laced the sides of the cargo hold, a gaping wound to the dead aircraft. Layers peeled back, as though it were an over ripe fruit, easily opened.
“My God, do you think that happened when we came through the trees?” Lydia gasped.
“Probably. It may well have saved us as well, slowing the craft down so we weren’t torn out of our seats.” Phoenix breathed out, then coughed. There was still smoke in the air, and it was noxious from the burned metal, plastic and other things. He wiped at his mouth, the thought of other things, not so pleasant. He turned when he heard the bark once more.
“That’s not coming from the plane, that’s coming from over there.” Lydia motioned off to the left, far back from the crash site. Both walked toward the sound. It was still muffled, but it was clearly a dog. They looked around and followed the sound until they were roughly thirty feet away from the crash site. Then Lydia pointed to a large object buried in the snow. Both waded through the knee-high snow, Lydia following behind Phoenix and he cleared the way. As they drew closer, Phoenix could see it was a large dog carrier buried in a snow drift. The end of it was sticking out of the snow, but the majority of the kennel was buried.
“Oh my gosh, that poor dog.” Lydia cried.
“Let’s see if we can pull this poor dog free.” Phoenix said, reaching the kennel. It was big and he wondered what kind of dog was in it, big obviously, but he hoped it wasn’t a vicious dog. He and Lydia pulled and tugged at the dog carrier and Phoenix could hear the dog whimpering within. He tried to look through the small slits but could only see fur.
“It’s okay dog, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of there. Hold on.” He said softly to the trapped dog. Phoenix’s shoulders screamed at the abuse. He grunted and pulled. He didn’t think the kennel was stuck, only that the dog was heavy. He felt the wet nose of the dog, shoved up against one of the slots. Phoenix blew gently into the nose and smiled when he heard the dog licking the crate. He hoped that didn’t mean the dog wanted to eat him.
Lydia was beside him, grunting and pulling. He felt the carrier shift a bit and pulled harder. Phoenix felt the burn in his back and shoulders. The pain was nearly overwhelming. He knew this activity wasn’t good for his injuries. He felt sweat pop out on his face and wiped with his shoulder. That process hurt as well. Finally, he felt the container give and he and Lydia pulled it free and slid it toward them.
Going around to the front of the kennel, Phoenix could see a very large German Shepherd within, its coat heavy and thick. The dog was massive.
“Maybe get behind me while I open the kennel, I don’t think he’d hurt us, but I want to be careful.” Phoenix warned. He didn’t take his eyes off the dog and felt Lydia move behind him. He could feel her hands on his waist. He pulled off his glove and brought his knuckles to the metal door. The dog brought its nose up to Phoenix’s hand and sniffed and then licked his hand, eliciting a grin from Phoenix.
“Hey, why don’t we let you out of there?” He said softly and opened the kennel. It had a spring latch and he squeezed it and opened the door. He stood up and stepped back, nearly stepping on Lydia, Phoenix waned to allow the dog to come out on its own. The dog looked at him and then out of the kennel and then took a tentative step from the kennel. The dog paused, feeling the snow beneath its paw.
“It’s okay, come on.” Lydia coaxed in a sweet voice. Phoenix could hear the tail swiping the inside of the kennel as it wagged. The dog stepped farther out and came to Phoenix. Raising his hand slowly, Phoenix rubbed the dog between its ears and got a lick for his efforts. He saw the collar around the dog’s neck and lifted the tag that dangled.
“Thor, hello Thor. Nice name boy.” He grinned and petting the dog around his neck and face. Thor’s tail wagged at the mention of his name. He was a beautiful dog.
“I think he’ll be okay, let’s go back to the plane, and see if he limps. We’ll have to see if there are more animals, trapped in their carriers.” Phoenix said, looking down at the dog as it followed. He could see no limping or blood. He turned when he heard Lydia’s gasp. He looked down to where she was staring. Beneath her foot, buried in the snow, was an arm. The fingers curled and burned.
Taking Lydia’s hand, he guided her away from the grisly sight.
“I think we might see a lot more of that. Let’s see if we can get into the cargo hold.”
“I know, it’s just so horrible. My Lord God, I can only hope that those who died, didn’t suffer long.” Lydia said, her southern accent seemed to get heavier when she was distressed. Phoenix didn’t and wouldn’t tell her about the two people still alive in the plane. If and when their rescuers came, he’d inform them. There was nothing he or Lydia could do for those poor souls. Telling her would do no good.
They reached the plane and looked into the wide expanse of the rip. It was dark inside.
“I think we’ll need a flashlight. Let’s go look in the carry-on luggage and see if we can find one.” Phoenix suggested.
They walked back around the large trees, and over to where the other survivors sat. The Japanese man was now awake and cradling his arm. Julian sat with his arm around Taya, who was weeping softly.
“Your arm okay?” Phoenix asked the slender man, squatting in front of him.
“I do not know. There is much pain.” The man said in heavily accented English.
“May I look at it? Maybe we can stabilize it. Make secure.” Phoenix said, indicating support for the arm.
“I’ll look in the luggage and see if we can’t make a sling for him. I’ll also look for a flashlight.” Lydia offered and Phoenix nodded. He helped the man remove his black suit jacket. He could feel the shivering of the man and figured they needed to get him bundled up fast. The man winced as Phoenix gently pulled his arm through the sleeve of the coat. There was blood on the man’s coat, and Phoenix thought that was from the woman beside him, there was no blood on the white cotton shirt sleeve. Phoenix gently held the forearm of the slender man and felt his way up.
About midway up, the Japanese man winced.
“I don’t know if it is broken, but it might be fractured. I’ll get a stick and we can immobilize
the arm and make a sling.” Phoenix announced.
“It’s a good thing the bone isn’t sticking out or anything. That would be bad news.” Julian put in, watching Phoenix.
“It would be. How’s your head, Julian?” Phoenix asked.
“Feels like it’s gonna split, but the bleeding stopped.” He said, his face still pale. Julian tried to smile and Phoenix reached over and patted him gently on the shoulder.
Lydia came to Phoenix holding a silk shawl. It was brilliant blue with a paisley print. She held up a small flashlight and wiggled her auburn brows. The flashlight dangled from a set of keys. Phoenix smiled at her and got up and looked around the ground. He found a piece of metal, that was not very jagged at the end. It was roughly a foot long. He figured that would work just as well as a piece of wood. He looked over and saw that Thor was laying at Taya’s feet and she was absently stroking the dog’s head.
“I’m going to rip this shirt up and use it to secure the brace to your arm. It might hurt, and I’m sorry.” Phoenix said, swatting before the man. At his nod, Phoenix began to tear up a blue cotton shirt. He used the small knife he’d found and was able to rip long strips. Lydia held the metal in place while Phoenix tied the fabric around snuggly. Phoenix tied the fabric up the forearm and secured it. Then, he and Lydia carefully helped the man with his coat and drew the arm through the sleeve. It was a tight fit, but they managed.
Lydia tied the shawl around the man’s neck and drew the fabric down and around the arm to support it. Once she was done, the man let out a sigh. There was sweat popping out above his lip.
“Thank you for your kindness and help.” He said, nodding to Phoenix and Lydia.
“No worries. My name is Phoenix, this is Lydia. This is Taya and that’s Julian.” He nodded to Julian who was now dragging some of the carry-on luggage over to their spot.