"Now what?" Patty asked when Chesney joined her.
"We wait." She was silent a long time before she added a comment. "This is a Coleman plane. They'll be looking for us."
"Sure, sure, and I'm the pope's niece," Patty said bitterly.
"No, no, Patty, you don't understand. My father's family built this plane. They'll come looking for.. ." She was going to say "me," but changed it to "us."
Later, when the first sounds of the rescue team reached the survivors, Chesney Brighton was holding Edith Neibauer against her chest. It was her first experience with death, and she prayed for the ability to comfort the old lady during her last minutes. "Shhh, don't try to talk, conserve your strength. The rescue team is here; I can hear the planes overhead. Try to hang on, Mrs. Neibauer." Pain screeched through Chesney with the weight of the old lady. She clenched her teeth.
"I want you to do... something for me... later. In my
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knitting bag is... a rabbit's foot on a chain. Stevie gave it to ... to me for Mother's Day when he was . .. nine years old. The ... the colored macaroni necklace ... is ... my daughter made it for me. I used to wear it every year on my birthday no matter what kind of outfit I had on."
"What.. . what do you want me to ... to do with them?" Chesney whispered.
"Give them to ... to Molly. She needs something to hold on to. It's Christmas morning and she doesn't have a present. Wrap ... wrap it in some ... of the colored yarn. Will you do that for me?"
Chesney's thoughts ricocheted. She'd thought. . . wouldn't a mother want her own children to have those things they'd given her? "Do you... do you want me to... I could call your son or daughter ... whatever you want, I'll do my best...."
"No, nothing. If.. . there's one small part of me ... in either of my . .. children, they'll know. I..."
She was so still, Chesney knew she was gone.
Chesney's movements were clumsy and awkward when she wrapped the gifts, Edith Neibauer's legacy to Molly, with red and green yarn.
Five minutes later her voice was bright and cheerful. "Molly, Santa left this for you! He left just this one present here and a note saying all your other presents are under the tree at home. Merry Christmas, honey!"
Molly stared intently at the small gifts. She smiled from ear to ear as she looped the macaroni necklace around her neck. She held out the rabbit's foot to Gus, who sniffed at it suspiciously. Sometimes grownups were so silly, Molly thought. She'd seen the little rabbit's foot and necklace in Mrs. Neibauer's knitting bag. She was an expert at not spoiling things for grownups. It was easy to pretend ... so they would smile.
They waited.
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UUUUi CHAPTER )))))))» TWENTY-TWO
Dinner was over, except for dessert. Jeff held the door to the kitchen open while Adam and Cole carried the dishes to the sink. The small television set Jeff had been watching between courses was announcing a bulletin. Everyone at the table stopped to listen. Jeff continued to hold the door open. Cole adjusted the volume.
"We interrupt this program to bring you this special bulletin. London Airways has announced the crash of Flight 214. The L1011 bound for Geneva, Switzerland, carried two hundred and sixty passengers plus a crew of twelve. Our latest word is the plane crashed in midflight. No further details are available. Stay tuned to this station."
Rand, Maggie, and Sawyer were off their chairs in an instant and headed toward the hall phone.
"Rand's daughter was the senior hostess on that flight," Amelia said. "He showed me a letter he received some time ago, where Chesney said she was working Christmas Eve. She said she liked Flight 214 because of the particular crew she worked with. Somebody say a prayer." All the heads at the table bowed. It was Julie's quiet, firm voice that said the short prayer. "Merciful father, give all those aboard the plane the strength and courage to handle this disaster. Give each of us here at this table the same strength to handle whatever it is that's in store for those unfortunate passengers."
"Let's all say the Our Father," Billie said. "That prayer makes me feel better."
The heads bowed a second time, each saying his prayer quietly.
No one showed surprise when Rand said he'd just spoken to the prime minister. His eyes were on Maggie when he spoke. "It's not good. There are some survivors. Three of the crew are alive, two stewardesses and one steward. Both pilots are dead. It will be hours, maybe days, before the rescue team can get to them. I have to go."
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"Of course you do, darling," Maggie s the table.
"The DM. I'll take it."
"Oh, no, you don't," Cole said flatl) anywhere."
"I second that," Riley said, heading f( his jacket.
"I tested that plane," Rand exploded.
"Not when your daughter was in a p said quietly. "Cole?"
Cole looked at Riley. His gaze was co you because I don't want to fight you."
"I'll be your copilot unless you have a said just as coolly.
"I don't have a one. Aunt Amelia, y< governor. There's no way I'll get off the kind of intervention. This is Christmas E and we'll do the rest," Cole said briskly.
"Don't just stand there, get moving. I the hangar, your permission will be I "Cary, hand me the phone!"
"I know everything will be all right, pered. "We'll hold Christmas till you get long it takes. We'll be right here whei know you'll have Chesney with you wl know it. You know it, too, don't you, M
"Yes, Rand. Good luck. Our prayers | Julie watched Amelia as she made he the words. Her son, her granddaughter what she asked? She turned to see Car; She'd never seen such naked devotion i away, blinded with her own tears. Billi h^r "Ynn have all the time in the world,
"Everyone, listen up," Billie said. "There's nothin can do but pray. We did that and we'll do it again. For i going to finish our dinner, do the dishes, and then we' sing carols and go to church. We are not going to c plans. Gift giving will have to wait till the others ge
Christmas day dawned clear and cold. The groun enough snow for the weather forecasters to proclain Christmas.
Breakfast was prepared with the rising sun, o served by Jeff. Adam played waiter, and Sawyer wa ress. Morning was spent playing cards and waiti phone to ring. At lunchtime, Jeff and Adam m wiches. Dinner was soup and salad. Everyone spei ning glued to the television.
A news bulletin that came on shortly after nil proclaimed the air crash one of Britain's worst. Fil was shown. More footage was promised for eleven i
It was midafternoon on Christmas Day when C DM down, smooth as silk. Riley congratulated him corner of his mouth. Cole nodded brusquely. They the far end of the runway, where a helicopter stood i them. They climbed aboard, their eyes gritty wi sleep, their shoulders stiff with fatigue. They sat sil< the pilot briefed them.
"You're right on schedule. We just got a fix on th< about thirty minutes ago. The first rescue plane took you landed. We'd have had it sooner," the pilot apoloj this goddamn snow isn't good for visibility. It'll take hour, maybe more. There's some coffee and sandv poly bag. Help yourselves, and Merry Christmas."
They swigged the scalding coffee and devourec ham sandwiches. Rand leaned back, his shoulders
"A time for miracles. Either you believe or you don't. Which is it?" Cole demanded.
"I've had my second chances, even some thirds. I don't have a right to expect more." A sob caught in Rand's throat.
"That's you. Doesn't seem to me that Chesney got up to bat yet. I'd say she has a shot at a second chance. You're just along for the ride," Cole said quietly.
Hope shot from Rand's eyes. "I never thought about it like that. God, I hope you're right."
Riley sat quietly listening to his cousin and Rand. He wanted to talk to Cole, but this wasn't the time. He had so much to say, so many things to apologize for. When death touched your life, it made you stop and think. He was saved from further thought when the helicopter pilot announced they were ready to set down.
"You have to go on foot for a mi
le, maybe three quarters of a mile. There should be a makeshift first aid station along the way. Two doctors and three nurses, I was told. Don't ask me where the plane is, because I don't know. I do know there are no landing strips. Two choppers were ahead of the rescue plane."
The pilot held the chopper steady as they leaped, crouching, to the ground. The rotary blades chopped the arctic air about them, kicking up clouds of powdery snow. When the pilot lifted off, they ran to what looked like a path in the snow.
They slogged up the hill, puffing and panting, their lungs burning with the freezing cold air. They were on their hands and knees more than their feet as they fought for toeholds in the hard-packed snow.
"Shock," Rand gasped. "Pneumonia. They could die from exposure."
"Rand, shut the hell up," Cole said raggedly. "Everyone's doing the best they can. Pray, but shut the hell up."
"I agree," Riley said through clenched teeth.
Forty minutes later Cole shouted over his shoulder. "Okay, we're here." Cole staggered into the closest tent. Portable kerosene heaters blazed warmly. Piles and piles of blankets were stacked on stretchers. Cartons of medicine and food left little walking-around room.
"They've been exposed too long," Rand said bitterly. "How many hours has it been—ten, twelve, more? The goddamn rescue team just got here!"
"This isn't the easiest place in the world to get to." Cole's
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tone was gentle and kind. Christ, what if it were Sumi in the plane, or his mother?
"Be glad you got clearance to get here at all," Riley said. "Calling the prime minister on Christmas Eve is what did it." Jesus, he thought, it could be anyone in that plane. Even Ivy Buckalew. The thought jolted him. He hastened outside and began walking again.
Cole reached out when he saw Riley falter and slip in the snow. The strange look on his cousin's face made Cole forget their differences.
"What is it?"
Riley swiveled to regain his footing. "I was thinking it might be Ivy Buckalew in the plane."
Cole grinned in the darkness. "Ivy Buckalew is back at Buckalew Big Wells eating her heart out over you, just the way she's been doing for years. I'll bet you didn't even buy her a Christmas present."
"You were always a goddamn know-it-all," Riley grated. He felt as if his lungs were going to burst with the climb he was making.
"When you know something, you know something. I happen to know Ivy's been in love with you since she was in pigtails. Stuff it, Riley. I don't give two shits what you do with your love life." Cole grinned again in the darkness. Sometimes you had to take Riley right to where the action was to get him to make a move. "I saw her a couple of weeks ago. She graduated magna cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa. Coots and Tess didn't attend. Lacey was the only one there for her." That ought to shake him up. Riley was real big on education and honors.
This time Riley stopped dead in his tracks. Cole was prepared, and stiff-armed him so he wouldn't lose his momentum. "What?"
"You heard me. Our little Ivy came in a winner, and the only one there to congratulate her was her sister, who, by the way, according to Ivy, is finally getting her shit together. That's a direct quote in case you're interested."
"Jesus," Riley breathed.
"That's what I said." Cole was glad the darkness covered the smirk on his face. He'd hate like hell for Riley to take a swing at him, here on this steep incline.
"I hear voices and I can see lights," Rand shouted.
Riley shouted, too, but the sound was carried away on the sharp-toothed wind blowing through the trees.
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When they finally slipped and skidded into the confusion of the crash site, they saw what a nightmare they were confronting. Rand slumped against Cole, his body shuddering with despair.
Cole's eyes raked the scene, as did Riley's. Giant trees were uprooted, lying every which way, across the plane and under the plane, so that it was tilted upward at an awkward angle. "The main body looks like it's intact," Riley said quietly. Fires burned, flashlights beamed as men and women in heavy parkas worked to move the trees.
"It looks hopeless," Riley hissed. "Those trees must be hundreds of years old. A team of horses couldn't drag one of those trees. No chopper could get in here. Jesus, it's starting to snow again."
Rand tore loose and ran, slipping and sliding to where a group of men were huddled by the fire. His face was maniacal as he demanded to know what was being done.
"The best that can be done under the circumstances, which isn't much. Take a look around, mister, and if you have any ideas, I'd like to hear them." He was an older man, his face tough and lined from years of exposure to the outdoors.
"My daughter's in there," Rand shouted.
"I'm sorry about that. We'll get her out as soon as we can. Right now we don't know how we're going to do it, so hang on to your suspenders awhile, okay?"
"What's the situation?" Cole quickly briefed the man on who they were and why they were there.
"More help's on the way. The bad weather isn't helping. What we have is some medical help and not enough muscle and brawn. Christmas, you know," he added, as if that explained everything. "I feel helpless. I've radioed back, but there's another front coming in. I'd say we should pray. I know that sounds callous and. . . inefficient, but it's the best I can do."
"Has there been any contact from within the plane?"
"People are alive in there, but that's all we know. Take a good look, mister. It looks like some unseen hand built a log cabin around that plane. We could use some heavy-duty bulldozers."
"What about moving the plane?"
"The pilot and copilot are dead, that much we know. No one here can fly, and we can't get to the cockpit anyway."
"I fly, so does my cousin, and this guy was a crack fighter
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pilot. We're big on electronics, too. What say we scout this out and see if we can lever those trees away from the cockpit."
It took the entire crew of men three hours to hack away branches and debris to get to the cockpit. Acetylene torches flared and flickered. "I'd give my right arm for a chain saw," Riley grunted as he heaved a monstrous tree limb out of the way.
"They're on the next plane. The one that can't get through," said one of the workers. "No time to daydream, boys; we have to keep going."
They worked through the night, breaking only for coffee and five-minute rest periods. Shortly before dawn the snow intensified, slowing down their efforts. A giant tarp was erected over the nose of the plane. The tentlike structure helped, but only a little.
By noon they had the top half of one monstrous tree cleared away, allowing the men with the torches more freedom to work unobstructed. It took four more hours before there was a hole big enough for a man to crawl through.
Cole went first, and then Riley. They crawled on their bellies through the first-class section of the L1011. "We made it!" Cole shouted when he reached the tilted tourist section. In this dim light he could see a small group of passengers crouching in the back of the plane. Numb with cold, they huddled together for the warmth of one another's bodies. "Who's in charge?" he shouted.
"I am, sir," replied a quivering voice. "I'm the senior stewardess on board. We're all hurt. Most... most of the passengers are ... are dead. We... what we did... was ... we put them together and took their coats... and... and their clothes. Several of us can move around. The rest need medical attention right away."
"We're going to try to get you out of here," Cole said with more confidence than he felt. "Now, try to get everyone to a seat and buckle their seat belts. I'm going to try to move this plane. I'm going to be honest and tell you now that I don't know if it will work, but it's our only chance. If this doesn't work, we'll get you out through the hole we climbed through." Cole eyed the enormous tree that cut across the main section of the cabin. You couldn't crawl above it and you couldn't crawl under it. If he could get the plane to move backward, free of the trees, they could torch the back end the w
ay they'd torched the front. He wished he could see better. "I'm going to the front now. Hang on and pray. Which one of
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you is Chesney Brighton?" He held his breath, willing there to be an answer he could report back to Rand.
"I'm Chesney Brighton," the senior stewardess shouted.
"Jesus." He'd come a long way to hear that. "Buckle up."
Riley was in the copilot's seat, the bodies of his predecessors lying next to each other in the cramped space behind the cockpit seats.
"Chesney's alive. I talked to her," Cole said, sliding into the pilot's seat.
"Great! That's what we came to hear. What say we get this show on the road."
Cole nodded as he studied the panel in front of him. He'd never flown an L1011. He could feel Riley's eyes on him. "This is a Coleman plane, Riley," Cole said in a hushed voice.
Riley's voice was low, almost a whisper. "Yeah, I know. My father went down in a Coleman plane over Vietnam. Let's hope you guys at Coleman Aviation are making them better these days."
"You check this bird out?" Cole asked nervously.
"Yeah. No more talk. Do it!"
"Easy for you to say." Cole's teeth were clenched so hard, he thought his jaw would crack. "If that monster on our left comes crashing down, we're dead meat; you know that, right?"
"You do that, you shithead, and I'll never know if Ivy Buckalew is the one for me."
Cole winced. "Never let it be said I stood in the way of true love. Give me a go." Riley's eyes flew over the indicator lights. Cole's knuckles glowed whitely on the throttle. The behemoth strained, the jet engines thundered. All about them timber cracked, louder than the sound of the jets.
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