by S A Ison
It had been a bitter pill and a bitter time. His wife, Valentina, had left him. He grinned maliciously, thinking about how she would fare without electricity and all those comforts she was accustom to. Valentina had divorced him and had demanded to live in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. He’d paid and paid, but he’d pay no more. Taking another sip of his red wine, then set the glass down. He stood up and left the bar. He was on vacation in Palma de Mallorca, Spain. He rarely visited the United States, knowing that his benefactors would one day strike.
A year after his impromptu firing and humiliation, he’d approached a Chinese consulate member, at a party. It had been tricky, and he had given little away, but had arranged a clandestine meeting with an agent. It had been a dangerous dance, but in the end, it had netted Torch over twenty million dollars and he’d handed over everything he had on the Pythagoras project. The money had been sent to several numbered accounts, one bank in a Zurich branch, in Switzerland, and an account in Hong Kong.
It was a mild evening, near seventy degrees, or twenty in Celsius, his mind made the conversion. A smile played across his features. It would be Pythagoras Falls, not Pythagoras Fails, or Pythagoras Dies, or Pythagoras Lost. Those were the four protocols to Pythagoras’ status. Pythagoras Falls meant that the system had been compromised by an external entity. That was the least likely to happen, or so it was thought, because of the tight security and procedures in place. Pythagoras Fails was far more the likely outcome. That meant the system failed to work.
Meaning, the platforms would not support such a weapons system. That platform being orbital achievement. If they were able to get the Pythagoras Project launched, which it seemed they had, then if the system failed, or died, it would be Pythagoras Dies. If the satellite was destroyed, either by an attack or by space debris, then that would be Pythagoras Lost.
Pythagoras was to have been his life’s achievement, but, twenty million didn’t hurt. A satisfied and smug smile curled and jiggled his jowls. It had been a down payment. He had been promised twenty million more once the information had been utilized. Torch breathed in deeply, the air was warm and sweet. Though nearing December, Palma de Mallorca was an extraordinary place. He had been traveling from country to country, to find that perfect place to settle down. Here, he could purchase a villa on the coast, overlooking the Mediterranean. He had his eye on a quaint property, and smiled at the prospects. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
He walked the cobbled streets, yes, he thought, such a quaint, yet beautiful locale. He nodded from time to time, at those he passed. He was feeling benevolent now. He had been avenged, for the wrong that was done him. That the whole of the United States had to pay, ah well, that was unavoidable, wasn’t it, he thought, grunting in amusement.
Arriving at his hotel, Torch floated up to his room in a fog of quality wine and gratification. He would check his accounts tomorrow. He should be twenty million dollars richer. Not bad for information given. He had Dr. Boyd Wiems to thank. Wiems, a wild card. Wiems it would seem, had a weakness for pornography and had used the black facility to jump onto websites that were less than wholesome. Torch had caught the scientist more than once, but had said nothing. He had kept in touch with Dr. Wiems through the ensuing years, after his abrupt exodus.
Torch had given his handlers information about Dr. Wiems and his predilections. He suggested they send Wiems a salacious invitation via his work email, with a trojan horse program of some kind, to gain access to the inner workings of the black site. Torch had also passed along tidbits he had gleaned over the years from Wiems’ complaints about Dr. Abellano’s incompetence and totalitarian methods. Torch had been very sympathetic and a shoulder to Wiems.
Perhaps he’d call the concierge and have him send a beautiful young woman to his room. He really did wish to celebrate. His key missed the lock twice before he managed to send it home. Upon entering, his hand felt for the switch, but when he flicked it on, nothing happened.
“Typical.” Torch grouched as he felt his way into the suite. His hands outstretched, waiving around, to feel what was in front of him. There was dim light coming through the closed curtains, and he moved his way toward the window, to open the curtains.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but Torch sensed movement behind him. His brain wasn’t so fogged that he couldn’t detect something very wrong. He didn’t see it, but felt something wrap around his neck from behind and pull tight, like a noose. His hands went immediately to his neck, clawing at the constricting garrote. Torch’s eyes bulged and he opened his mouth for a silent scream and a breath of illusive air.
“Your services are no longer needed Dr. Torch. Loose ends and all, you understand.” Said a heavily accented Russian voice. Those were the last words that Dr. Reece Torch heard as death took him.
Ω
Lewis and Clark National Forest, MT
Lydia sat before the fire, mesmerized, the heat of the blaze heating her skin and the air she breathed. She watched as the fire danced along the wood, popping now and then, flaring when the fire reached a bit of resin from the wood. She detected the stringent fragrance as it reached her nose. Beyond, in the dark, she could barely make out the ruined fuselage of the plane. The snow was coming down heavier now. All around her, the air was muffled, as though she had cotton in her ears. She could see the snow, but could not hear it.
Behind her, Yuma, Taya and Julian were sound asleep. She guessed that it was near midnight. She’d been asleep herself, but had woken an hour ago, crying out in her sleep. Phoenix had woken her from her dream, a dream of falling through space. Like she’d done earlier that day. Lydia shivered at the remembrance. She’d felt so helpless and could only close her eyes and waited to die. It had been a comfort when Phoenix had tried to shelter her with his body, and that may well have saved her life.
She thought about her sister, Sophie, waiting in Seattle for a plane that would never land. Then she imagined the phone call to her parents in Charleston and Lydia felt the sting of tears. She was trying to be strong; she had survived the crash after all, but why hadn’t they been rescued? When were the rescuers coming? She sniffed and wiped at her nose. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over at Phoenix, who was sitting two feet away. Thor was asleep on the other side of Phoenix, the dog’s large head in Phoenix’s lap.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
“Yeah, just thinking about my family. I know they think I’m dead. I just wish that I could call and tell them that I’m alive and safe. I dropped my phone when the plane started falling. I just know they’re all fretting over me.”
“Me too. I keep thinking about my mom. I tried my phone, but it doesn’t work. I didn’t see any phones in the wreckage, either.” Phoenix shrugged.
“At least we found the coffee pot, along with all that food in the suitcases. Who knew that people packed so much junk?” Lydia laughed softly, looking over her shoulder at the sleeping survivors. Beside them was a mound of food that they’d scavenged from the suitcases taken from the cargo hold. Inside, had been a plethora of foods, three fruit cakes, twelve tins of cookies, an unbroken bottle of Jack Daniel’s whisky, a plastic bag full of coffee pods, four hard sausages and other boxed snacks and treats.
Lydia had found the stainless-steel coffee pot when she and Taya had gone to find a place for a bathroom. It had been sticking out of a snowbank, dented and the handle nearly melted. It even had a little coffee left inside. They’d also found a shoe, with a foot still in it. Lydia shivered at the memory.
“You cold?” Phoenix asked. She looked over again and smiled, shaking her head.
“No, you want some coffee? I can heat it up.” She asked.
“Sure, I’m not sleepy yet, might as well.” He yawned, negating his statement.
“Sure, you’re not.” She laughed and picked up the pot. They had put clean snow into the pot and then dropped one of the coffee pods into it. It wasn’t how it was supposed to work, but worked well enough. They’d found several plastic sippy cups in t
he luggage and had used them to drink from. Lydia shook the pot, there wasn’t much coffee left, enough for about a cup. They could share.
They had also found several heavy sweaters, that were divided among them, as well as leggings, long underwear, heavy socks and even three pairs of boots. Yuma had traded in his dress shoes for a pair of winter boots and heavy wool socks. Julian also discarded his Adidas in favor of sturdier wear. They’d found a makeup bag and inside had been a small jar of petroleum jelly, which Phoenix had applied to Taya’s boots. He’d also put a coating on his own, and Lydia’s boots.
“This will keep them waterproofed, that snow will eventually make its way through.” He had explained as he rubbed it into the leather. Taya had nodded, not saying much. Lydia knew the girl was still in shock, over losing her parents, trying to come to grips with it all. She’d not eaten much, earlier that evening, only nibbling at a cookie or two.
“You think Taya will be alright?” Phoenix asked, as though reading her mind.
“I hope so. It might take a bit; this is all so raw. Also, I think she might have a bit of survivor’s guilt.” Lydia said, checking the coffee. Carefully, she poured it into the plastic cup, then set the pot aside. She handed the hot cup over to Phoenix, who took it with both hands.
“I imagine that Yuma is experiencing the same. I just hope he doesn’t want to retriever her body. I don’t think it is something he should see, or remember about his wife.” He said, carefully sipping the hot liquid. Lydia nodded and reached over and picked up a large branch. She carefully lifted it to the tarp above her and pushed upwards. She heard the soft shushing of snow as it fell off and slid to the ground behind the makeshift tent.
Phoenix handed her the cup and she took a sip, the hot liquid felt good going down. They both turned when they heard wolves howling in the far distance. Thor brought his head up and his ears pricked forward. Phoenix laid a hand on the dog’s neck.
“It’s okay boy, just your cousins and they’re far, far away. Go back to sleep.” Phoenix whispered, his fingers scratching behind Thor’s ears. Thor sniffed the air, seemed to find all well, snorted and then laid his head back into Phoenix’s lap and sighed heavily, a soft groan emitting somewhere deep in his chest.
“Must be nice to be so relaxed.” Lydia snorted, taking another drink and handed the last of the coffee back to Phoenix.
“Don’t I know it. I’m so keyed up, I just can’t seem to relax. The pain meds are helping though. My back and neck feel a lot better.” The group had also found medication among the items in the suitcases. There were vitamins, aspirin, Ibuprofen and other medications. Each of the survivors had taken one or the other pain medication, since all of them had been in some form of discomfort. They’d been lucky enough to find antibiotic ointment and Lydia had cleaned Julian’s forehead. There was a shallow gash across his forehead, just at the hairline. It had begun to bleed when she’d cleaned it, and Julian had screamed when Lydia had applied hand sanitizer. She’d then put on the antibiotic ointment and had torn clothing to make a bandage for his head.
“I think Julian passed out from sheer exhaustion, from getting his wound cleaned, bless his heart.” Lydia observed, looking behind her to peer at the dim figure of Julian. She could just see that his mouth was open. He was sound asleep. A soft smile creased her lips and she turned back to the fire. They were all feeling a little fragile and frazzled.
Phoenix reached over to his corner of the tent and grabbed a large branch. He carefully laid it over the fire. The snow was falling on the fire, but the fire was hot enough to evaporate the moisture.
“What are we going to do tomorrow? Should we wait here for rescuers?” Lydia asked, it had been a question that had been nagging her all day and into the evening.
“I don’t think we can. The smoke from the wreckage has finally gone out. There is no way for anyone to spot where we landed. I hate to say, but I think we’re gonna have to walk out of here.” Phoenix said, shaking his head.
Lydia squinted out into the dark forest; the snow afforded a hint of light. She hoped it wouldn’t snow a lot. It would be hard going, and dangerous if they couldn’t walk easily. Both she and Phoenix jerked when they heard the low rumble and then screeching of metal. Behind Lydia, Yuma and Taya sat up abruptly. Their eyes wide with fear and confusion.
Lydia turned to watch as the fuselage plunged into the ground, still supported by the trees, but the mouth of the wreckage, where they’d been seated was now crushed into the ground below. Lydia was thankful to see that the craft was still wedge in the trees and didn’t topple forward. She was also glad that Phoenix had suggested they camp away from the wreckage.
“Glad we weren’t near that.” Taya said softly and then laid back down, pulling the layers of clothing over her. Julian had not woken, merely turned over and grunted in his sleep. Yuma got up and came to sit beside Lydia, he cradled his arm as he carefully took a seat.
“How is your arm?” she asked him, shifting a bit to let him get closer to the fire. Lydia also helped settle the coat over his shoulder.
“Better, I think. The medicine helped much.” Yuma smiled wanly. He held one hand out to the fire, spreading and flexing his fingers.
“Would you like some coffee? I can make a fresh pot?” Phoenix asked, leaning forward and looking over at Yuma. Yuma shook his head and brought up his hand.
“No, thank you. Do you think snow will be much?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. Tomorrow, we’ll have to walk out of here. I don’t think we will be found otherwise. Unless they send helicopters to look. I didn’t hear anything earlier today.” Phoenix said, rolling his head, and stretching his neck.
“I think will be difficult to walk.” Yuma observed.
“I think so too. I think if we walk in a line, I can lead and break a path. That way it can be easier for the rest of you to follow behind.” Phoenix offered.
“That’s a really good idea. But I also think, maybe we should take turns in the lead. That way, you don’t exhaust yourself.” Lydia suggested, smiling up at Phoenix. He grinned and nodded.
“I can agree to that. Maybe Thor can sniff our way out of this place.” Phoenix said, patting the dog’s head.
“I guess I better lay down and get some sleep. It will be a long day tomorrow. Wake me if you need me to watch the fire.” Lydia yawned, her hand trying to cover the wide opening of her mouth. She had better manners before the crash. She grinned apologetically and crawled to the back of the tent, to lay beside Taya. There was a large bundle of clothing that was used as both bedding and covers. Lydia set about making a bed for herself and layered the clothing over her. She wadded up her bag and laid her head down.
She was tired, so very tired. Once more, she felt the prickle of tears. Hopefully tomorrow, she’d be able to find a phone and call her parents and her sister. She heard the soft snores from Julian and smiled. She was glad he could sleep so soundly. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on making her body relax. Soon, she drifted and slept.
Phoenix looked down at Thor, who seemed blissfully unaware of the tragedy that surrounded them. Ignorance was bliss, he guessed. He looked over at Yuma, the man slumped with fatigue. He couldn’t imagine what the man was going through, loosing his wife. Taya, poor girl. There would be no answers for her either. Both he and Yuma turned when they heard an owl in the forest, hooting. Yuma looked questioningly at Phoenix.
“It’s an owl. A bird, it hunts at night. Like hunting mice and small rodents.”
“Oh, sodesu, I understand. Here, your country is very big.”
“It is, and this forest might be very big too. I hope we can find a road. If we can, it shouldn’t take long to find a car. I hope, at least.” Phoenix shrugged and then regretted it. He reached for the bottle of pills in his pocket and shook some in his hand. He offered Yuma the bottle and at Yuma’s nod, shook to pills out. Phoenix opened the bottle of water and handed it to the man. When Yuma handed it back, he downed the pills.
“I must thank
you once more, for rescuing me from the plane.” Yuma said in a formal tone.
“It’s okay. I couldn’t let you die up there.”
Yuma nodded silently. He patted his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. There were only a couple left. He offered the pack to Phoenix, but Phoenix shook his head. He’d smoked when he’d been a teen, but had stopped. An expensive habit. He watched the man light the cigarette. The smoke drifted around their heads.
Yuma stared into the distance, watching the snow come down. The warmth of the fire on his face and hand felt good and he felt a shiver run through his body. He took another drag on the cigarette. He was careful to blow the smoke away from Phoenix. He wondered if Chizu’s spirit were near, or if she’d gone to the ancestors. He hoped she was at peace and did not suffer in the crash. He’d seen the blood on his suit and tried not to think about how she had died. The man, Phoenix had not said and Yuma was afraid to ask. He really didn’t want to know how his wife had died.
Yuma looked over to the large American. It seemed that the man was almost larger than life and Yuma had learned that Phoenix had carried them all down from the plane. Mentally shaking his head, Yuma knew that took courage and strength. The man had both, he would have made a great Sumo wrestler. Yuma looked at the large dog that was asleep, the massive head resting in the big man’s lap. Two powerful spirits. The dog had survived the crash as well.
It was a daunting thought, walking out of this wild place. Yuma was used to cold, but he wasn’t used to the snow. It seemed to seep into his clothing and shoes. He was grateful that a pair of boots had been found. He shivered, thinking about his cold feet earlier and shifted his booted feet forward now, toward the fire. He sighed heavily and his eyes grew heavy. He flicked the cigarette butt into the fire. He wished he could stay awake, but the pain and stress of the day had taken its toll.
“Please forgive me, I think I will sleep again.” He murmured to the big man beside him.
“Get some sleep, you’ll need your strength tomorrow. It will be a hard day of walking.” Phoenix smiled kindly. Yuma nodded and got up awkwardly and made his way into the back of the tent. He lifted the ceiling of the makeshift tent and heard the gathering snow fall off. He settled himself, trying hard not to jar his injured arm. It took a bit of time settling the clothing over his body. Julian’s body heat helped, along with the others. It was cold to be sure, but Yuma was warm enough once he got under the clothing. He slipped the knit cap over his head and shut his eyes. Silently, he said goodbye to Chizu, and felt the warm tears slide down the sides of his face as he fell to sleep.