The Survivors

by Dinah McCall

  Mike slid an arm beneath Molly’s shoulders, so that when she walked, she would be braced against him.

  “Hold on, girl,” he said gently.

  Molly started to cry.

  Mike looked startled. “Am I hurting you? Do we need to—”

  “No, no,” Molly said. “These are tears of relief, not pain. I just can’t believe you’re all here.”

  Mike pointed at Deborah. “If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t be.” His gaze focused on her wide blue eyes and the reddened patches on her cheeks where the cold had chapped all the way through to the next layer of skin.

  “Lead the way, pretty lady. We’re right behind you.”

  Deborah turned toward home without speaking, but her heart was full and her steps lighter as she went. She knew they were worried about the boy, but he would be all right. They needed shelter, dry clothes and warm food, and it was all waiting for them less than two miles above.

  As she walked, Mike O’Ryan’s words kept echoing in her head. Pretty lady. Pretty lady. By the time they reached the perimeter of her property, those words had gone all the way to her heart.

  They all saw the lights through the trees at once, but Mike was the first to cry out.

  “I see lights!”

  “We’re almost there,” Deborah said. “About a hundred yards more and then across the yard to the back of the house.”

  “Thank God,” Evan said. “I can feel Johnny’s breath on my face, but he hasn’t said a word since I picked him up.”

  Molly was so relieved to know that their journey was almost over that she shed a few more tears.

  James was too concerned about Evan and Johnny to comment, and said nothing as he brought up the rear.

  When they were about halfway across the clearing, a dog began to bark.

  Deborah stifled a sob. Puppy. And they were almost home. Seconds later, a pretty sable-and-white collie nearly knocked her off her feet.

  “Hey, Puppy…yes, I’m home, and we have company, so be good.”

  The dog bounced around Deborah’s feet and then ran a little way ahead, only to turn around and repeat it all over again. By the time they reached the back porch, they were experiencing what amounted to adrenaline deprivation. They’d been so keyed-up to get here that once they’d seen the lights, the simple act of crossing the clearing to get to the back door left them exhausted and dragging their feet.

  They went through a screened-in porch; then Deborah opened the back door to the house and stood back to let the others enter. The warmth of the house hit them square in the face. Groans of appreciation for the unexpected comfort sounded long and loud. Puppy disappeared to a favorite spot somewhere else in the house—somewhere far warmer than the outdoors where she’d awaited Deborah’s return.

  “What kind of heating do you have up here?” James asked as they began unloading backpacks, and shedding their coats and boots.

  “It’s propane. There are several wall heaters throughout the house and one floor furnace in the living room, plus a fireplace.”

  “It feels like heaven,” Evan said, and then laid his son down on a daybed in the corner of the big kitchen.

  “Dad? Help me,” Evan said as he began tugging at Johnny’s coat and hiking shoes.

  Mike had already helped Molly into a chair, and had taken off her coat and shoes. He was taking off his own boots when Evan called. He dropped his own coat near the door and raced to Evan’s side.

  “Your floor. We’re getting snow all over your floor,” James said as he dumped the backpacks and then shut the door.

  Deborah hung her coat on a wall hook, then sat down on the floor and took off her boots. James reached down and pulled her up, then wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug that all but squeezed the breath from her lungs.

  “You saved my family. Don’t know how we’ll ever be able to thank you, but thank you, just the same.”

  “You’re welcome,” Deborah said, then extricated herself from his arms and went to Molly, who seemed dazed by the warmth and confusion. Deborah knelt in front of her, eyeing her bruises and wounds. They seemed superficial, but one could never be sure.

  “Molly…I’m Deborah. Welcome to my home.”

  Molly inhaled slowly as tears continued to roll silently down her cheeks. “I thought we would die.”

  Deborah took both of Molly’s hands and began warming them with her own.

  “I’m going to take you to my bedroom. We’ll run a big tub of warm water for you to soak in. You need to get warm, okay? As soon I make coffee, I’ll bring you a cup.”

  Molly nodded as Deborah turned to James.

  “There are cans of soup in the pantry. It’s through that door. Pans are in the cabinet to the right of the sink. Can opener is on the cabinet next to the bread box. The stove is gas. Will you heat up the soup for the others while I get Molly into the tub?”

  “Will do,” he said, and disappeared into the pantry.

  Deborah could hear the big man thumping around inside the small space, and smiled. One thing about the O’Ryan men. They weren’t bashful about taking charge. Still, it took all her energy to move to the cabinets. She ran water into the coffeepot, poured it into the coffeemaker, then quickly measured out coffee into the filter. One flip of a switch turned the pot on. Within seconds, the scent of freshly brewing coffee permeated the room.

  She glanced back at Molly before hurrying to the daybed, where Mike and Evan were working on Johnny.

  “Evan, there’s a second bathroom down the hall on the left. Run some lukewarm water into the tub, and then put Johnny in it. As he warms up, you can slowly add more hot water.”

  Evan was pulling Johnny’s jeans off as she spoke. His voice shook as he gave life to his fears. “His skin is so cold,” he said.

  “That’s why the lukewarm water,” Mike said. “Remember your survival training, Evan. We have to warm him up gradually.”

  Evan nodded. “Right,” he said as he pulled off the last of Johnny’s clothes.

  There was a brief moment of shock as they gazed at the little boy’s still body.

  “God Almighty…the bruises. Look at the bruises,” Mike said.

  “No telling what happened to him as the plane went down,” Evan said. Unashamed of his tears, he picked up his son. The child was so limp and lifeless, he feared their troubles were far from over. “You said the bathroom was down the hall?”

  “Yes,” Deborah said. “There are plenty of towels in the corner cabinet. Help yourself.”

  “I’ll run the water,” Mike said, and ran ahead of them.

  Deborah went back to Molly, then helped her up.

  “Come along, sweetheart. We need to get you warm.”

  Relief at having been rescued was beginning to soak in. Molly leaned against Deborah as they started down the hall.

  “The warmth feels wonderful, but I can’t quit shaking,” Molly said.

  “You got too cold. Hypothermia. If we hadn’t found you and Johnny when we did, it might have been too late.”

  Tears pooled in Molly’s eyes again. “I nearly killed us, didn’t I? Is Johnny all right?”

  “I think he will be,” Deborah said as she ushered her into her bedroom, then into the adjoining bath.

  Molly undressed as Deborah turned her back and began filling the tub. Too much had happened to Molly to be concerned with modesty, but she was touched that Deborah was still considerate. When the tub was at the right depth and temperature, Deborah turned off the water.

  “In you go,” she said, and steadied Molly as she stepped into the warm water.

  “Oh, Lord, this feels good,” Molly said.

  Deborah longed for a nice hot bath, herself, as Molly slowly sank into the depths.

  “Here’s a washcloth and some soap when you’re ready for them, but I recommend a good long soak first. Is there anything else you need?”

  Molly grasped Deborah’s hand.

  “I don’t know how you knew where to find us, but thank God yo
u did.”

  “You’re welcome,” Deborah said, then she stepped back and sat down on a nearby footstool. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” Molly said.

  “Why did you leave the crash site?”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God…I can’t believe I almost forgot.”

  “Forgot what?” Deborah asked.

  “Johnny and I…witnessed a murder.”

  Deborah gasped. The other set of footsteps! That explained the danger she’d believed them to be in.

  “What did you see?” she asked.

  “We saw one of the survivors kill another man. We were afraid if he knew we were alive and had seen him that he’d kill us, too.”

  Deborah was stunned. “How awful,” she said. “And you say Johnny saw it, too?”

  “Yes. That’s why we left. I might have been able to deceive him into believing I hadn’t seen anything, but Johnny was another story. Not only did he see what happened, but when he realized his grandparents were dead, he asked me if the bad man had killed them, too.”

  Deborah was horrified at what they’d gone through, but very impressed with Molly’s presence of mind. For such a young woman, she’d reacted admirably.

  “So what did you do then?” Deborah asked.

  “As soon as the man left the cabin, I grabbed Johnny, some airline snacks and a couple of blankets, and we ran as fast as we could. It had begun to snow. There was a chance he wouldn’t even miss us, but if he did, I was hoping that the snow would cover our tracks. I know it was risky to leave the crash site, but we couldn’t stay and take the chance.”

  “Did you know the man who was murdered?” Deborah asked.

  “Not really, but he and the killer were sitting in front of me. I heard them fighting off and on during the trip. The killer was in some kind of financial trouble, I think. Anyway, the other one knew. I don’t know why it mattered. Then we crashed. I woke up to see the first one strangling the other one…I assume to keep him quiet.”

  “Dear Lord,” Deborah said, then got to her feet. “I need to tell the men. Will you be all right?”

  Molly nodded.

  “I won’t be long,” Deborah said, then ran from the room.

  Evan was bare to the waist and down on his knees, holding Johnny’s limp body in the tepid water. His muscles were trembling from exhaustion but he wouldn’t give up his son to anyone. Mike was slowly adding hot water to the tub, in between rubbing Johnny’s feet and legs to aid his circulation, when the little boy began to come around. First his eyelids fluttered; then he started to moan.

  “Dad! He’s coming around!” Evan cried.

  “He’s talking. What’s he saying?” Mike asked.

  “Blow the whistle,” Johnny mumbled.

  Evan swallowed past a knot in his throat as he lifted Johnny from the water and held him close against his bare chest.

  Mike wrapped him in a towel as Evan kissed Johnny’s cheek.

  “It’s all right, little man. It’s Daddy. I found you. Granddad is here, too. We’re all here, son. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

  A frown spread across Johnny’s forehead, then he opened his eyes. Evan held his breath, afraid that his eye patch and scars would frighten him even more.

  “Daddy?”

  Evan nodded. “Yes, son, it’s me. Daddy. I know I look a little—”

  “I told her you would come. I told her to blow the whistle and you would come and you did!” he said, then rose up far enough to reach his father and wrapped his arms around Evan’s neck.

  Evan was so moved he didn’t trust himself to speak.

  “Hey, buddy, it’s Daddy Mike,” Mike said, and gently patted the little boy’s back.

  Johnny grinned at Mike over Evan’s shoulder, then suddenly realized he didn’t know where he was.

  “We’re in a house?”

  “Yes. It belongs to a nice lady who helped us find you.”

  Johnny frowned. “Where’s my Molly? Did the bad man get Molly?”

  Evan pulled back and stared at his son as if he’d never seen him, then glanced at his Dad.

  Mike caught Evan’s gaze and shrugged.

  At that moment there was a knock at the bathroom door. It was Deborah.

  “I need to talk to both of you,” she said.

  Evan was tightening the towel around Johnny as Mike opened the door.

  “Johnny’s conscious,” Mike said.

  Deborah glanced over Mike’s shoulder and got a glimpse of a slender face and blue eyes.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said, then took hold of Mike’s shoulders to emphasize her words. “I need to talk to you.”

  Mike frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Has Johnny said anything to you about—”

  “About a bad man?” Mike said.

  Deborah’s eyes widened. She nodded.

  “Just that there was one,” Mike said. “What don’t we know?”

  “They witnessed a murder,” Deborah said. “It’s why they ran. After the crash, one of the survivors killed another, then left the cabin. Molly was afraid that if he came back and found out he had two witnesses, he’d kill them, too.”

  Evan heard her, but he could hardly wrap his mind around the words. Not only had his son endured a crash, but he’d had to witness his grandparents’ deaths and then a murder? It seemed impossible to grasp.

  “Is that true, son?” Evan asked.

  Johnny turned and hid his face against his father’s neck.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Deborah said. “You’re not in trouble. Besides, Molly already told us everything.”

  Johnny looked up. “I wanna see my Molly.”

  “She’s in the bathtub getting warm, just like you did,” Deborah said.

  Johnny started to cry. “Did the man hurt her, too? He did, didn’t he? I wanna see her. I wanna see my Molly!”

  Before they could answer him, Molly emerged from the bedroom on the run. She had wrapped herself in an oversize bath towel, unintentionally revealing the depth of her own injuries.

  Evan forgot to breathe as she ran into the room. When he saw the extent of her wounds and remembered that she’d ignored her pain to save his son, he was speechless.

  Unaware of Evan’s scrutiny, Molly ran to the child.

  “Look, Johnny. I’m here. The man didn’t get me. I’m fine. We’re both fine, just like I promised, okay?”

  The relief on the little boy’s face was obvious. He went from Evan’s arms to Molly’s without a thought for the fact that he was abandoning his father for what amounted to a total stranger.

  The towel slipped a little as Molly took Johnny into her arms, but she didn’t notice. Instead, she took him into Deborah’s room, sat down on the bed and began to rock him against her.

  Johnny went limp and started to cry.

  “I’m so sorry,” Molly said as the others came in. “He was such a brave little soldier, but it was such a terrible thing for a child to see.”

  Evan was silent. Seeing his son in another woman’s arms was something of an emotional shock. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Johnny had pushed him away. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, and he hardly looked like the daddy that had gone away. Still, he wouldn’t have expected his son to have bonded so quickly with a woman he barely knew. It made him wonder how badly Johnny missed having a mother—and how special this Molly must be to have made such an impression on his son.

  “It’s all right,” Evan said, then sat beside her. Slowly he leaned over and began rubbing Johnny’s back.

  “It’s all right, Johnny. It’s okay to cry, and you know what? I’m so proud of you for remembering the whistle. If it hadn’t been for your whistle, we might not have found you.”

  Johnny snuffled a little bit more, but he was listening intently. “Really?” he asked.

  Evan nodded. “Really.”

  Johnny leaned back in Molly’s arms and this time thoroughly assessed his father’s face. />
  “Is that eye gone?” he asked, pointing to the patch.

  “Yes. Does it scare you?” Evan asked.

  Johnny frowned. “No. Did it hurt?”

  Evan sighed. Truth hurt. “Yes.”

  Johnny leaned forward and traced a little finger down the path of scars on Evan’s face. “Daddy, did you cry?”

  “Yes.”

  Johnny seemed to wince, then crawled from Molly’s lap to Evan.

  “I’m sorry those bad men hurt you. Maybe it was the same bad man who was on our plane.”

  Evan’s stomach knotted. “No, I think it was a different one, but you need to know that you’re safe. That man can’t ever hurt you.”

  Johnny sighed, and then finally relaxed as Deborah interrupted.

  “I’m sure James has heated the soup by now. How about we all get some warm food in our stomachs?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Evan said. “Give me a few minutes to get a shirt and find Johnny some clothes.”

  Deborah glanced at Molly’s bare shoulders and then pointed to the dresser.

  “I’m taller than you are, but we’re about the same size. Help yourself to whatever clothes that you need.”

  “Thank you,” Molly said.

  “I’ll help James with the food,” Deborah said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Mike offered.

  As soon as they were out in the hall, Mike grabbed Deborah by the arm.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She stopped.

  He took her by the shoulders.

  “Lady, you are something,” he said softly. “My family is still intact, thanks to you.”

  “I’m just happy I was able to help,” she said, and started to walk away, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “In the beginning, I gave you a hard time, and for that, I’m sorry,” Mike said, and took a step closer.

  Deborah felt her pulse quicken. Was this it? Was this the moment where everything changed?

  “It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” she said.

  Mike cupped the side of her face and stared, taking in every tiny facet of her features, including the new bruise and scratches, until he was certain he had them memorized. Then he leaned forward.

  He heard her swift intake of breath.

  Felt a muscle jump at the side of her jaw.