by Cara Charles
Kane joined Hal and Dave, but Hal put his hand up to stop Kane from entering the Grove.
Deedee sniffed the log, barking. Round and round she ran, barking then digging under the log.
Deedee, the white and grey shaggy Polish Sheepdog mix, quite the miracle dog, and a pound rescue, a natural born sled dog pulled at the log with her claws looking at the guys, to roll the damn thing over. Deedee barked at them as if to say, dig where she was digging. The avalanche team with their small shovels got it and dug furiously.
Hal was wailing now, “Oh God. Say it isn’t so.”
Deedee and the team with Dave and Kane dug in the chemically hardened snow, ice now, until her claws were bleeding. Deedee was barking, yelping, frantic and they frantic along with her. They dug faster. Hal began digging with his hands.
“Hal we’ve got this. Deedee! Calm down girl!” Dave said, she listened.
Hal pulled her off, but she insisted, digging with them. They’d reached Chris’ feet.
“Oh shit. Stop.” Hal didn’t want to look.
Dave pushed down the sock on his left ankle and found Chris’ signature tattoo of a hotdog. When everyone saw that Hal and Kane walked away from the grave. Dave felt for pulses, found a faint pedal pulse. This was a crime scene now. Deedee dug on.
“He’s got a pulse. Dig him up!” Dave yelled. “Dig him up!”
Deedee was tugging on Chris’ feet. They pulled Deedee off, as the rest of them dug delicately around Chris.
Kane charged the AED shock devise and emptied his pockets of all the epinephrine he’d brought.
Deedee barked right in Chris’ ear as they lifted him into the sled. Dave jumped on top of Chris’ cold, naked body, began aggressive CPR, cleared them all and shocked him. Then gave 1.0mg of Epi and rechecked his rhythm. Dave sighed.
They redressed him in the jumpsuit, wrapped his head in the spare rescue hat, and his lower body in the sled’s blankets.
“He’s so cold, Dave,” Hal tucked Chris’ hand into the blanket, fighting back tears.
“It’s worth a shot.” Dave checked his carotid.
Dave gave him three brutal chest blows and started aggressive chest compressions.
“We don’t want Chris to be a vegetable Dave,” Hal said.
“Neither do I. Just get us off this mountain.”
They attached a few more towropes to the front of the sled and with Dave doing CPR and giving Epi every minute or so to Chris, a teammate and Kane quickly covered the ground to the gondola. With Hal trailing, but keeping up.
In the gondolas, Dave and Kane did two-man rescue all the way down the mountain. Others relieved them in teams of two. The Epi was soon gone, like their options. They were all tired but refused to give up.
Back at the gondola base, Kane hustled out of the harness and into the back of the ambulance. Dave and the guys helped place Chris onto a gurney, continuing CPR, as Hal handed back their jackets.
“You ready Kane?” Dave asked, taking slow breaths in and stretching his neck.
He was exhausted, and knew Chris was gone.
“Ya, bring him in.”
Hal stepped away, crying.
The guys had to wrestle Deedee away from the back of the ambulance, Deedee barking and wiggling to get free to do her job.
Inside now, Dave saw the intra-cardiac syringe ready for him, the EKG leads laid out. Kane attached the leads as Dave resumed CPR. Once the leads were attached Dave paused, the monitor showed a flat line. Dave plunged the long needle right into Chris’ heart and shot in the adrenalin and waited a few seconds. Nothing. Then they resumed CPR.
“Good thinking, Kane. But I don’t think we have a chance in hell,” Dave said, resuming CPR and Kane bagged Chris.
“Hey Dave? Deedee’s feet are bleeding, she’s limping,” someone shouted.
“Frank? Crawl up in here and get some IV fluid, cut off the tip, squeeze it on her feet, and grab bandages and a blanket. It’s probably a chemical. But doctor her around front. Chemical is the only way they could have gotten the hole dug so fast.”
Frank climbed in found the IV bag, and blanket and rolls of bandage and with one last look at Chris, so quiet and still, sighed and exited the back of the ambulance.
Everyone was watching as Dave and Kane continued for another several minutes. Dave used every med that would have made any difference. He used the defibrillator several times just in case. No response.
Dave asked Hal, “We could get him to the E.R. and let the docs have a go, what do you say Hal? He’s been out of oxygen a long time, in the hole a long time, too. Hal, the cold just slowed his metabolism down. It’s a tough call. As his former guardian, what do you say?”
Hal shook his head, no.
“Alright, Hal. I’m going to call it. What’s the time?”
“I agree,” Kane said as he left to help Frank with Deedee.
Hal was stunned, looking at Chris. “You’re stopping?”
“We’ve worked on him 30 minutes. He’s been in that hole… You understand? Right?”
Hal nodded. “Time is 9:22.” Hal had turned his back.
Deedee’s frantic yelping underscored their mood and mirrored their helplessness.
“Let’s let her sniff him so she can process this. Then we’ll give her a the tranquilizer if she needs it. Turn her loose Frank,” Dave said from the back of the ambulance as he uncovered Chris’ face and caught up on his notes.
Deedee ran around the ambulance and jumped into the back, right up on Chris’ chest, and licked his face, ears, mouth, hard and fast. After a minute of no response, she understood.
Dave petted her, over and over. Then he noticed all the guys had gathered around the back of the ambulance, all crying. His eyes were filling up, too.
“He’s gone Deedee. I’m sorry girl. He’s gone.”
Deedee looked at Dave and understood, as Dave shook his head, no. Deedee lay down beside Chris, her head on his chest.
They all lost it. The guys walked away unwilling to watch the sad scene anymore.
When Deedee’s painful feet made her reach around to lick them, Dave intervened.
“No girl. Let’s finish doctoring her feet. I don’t want her to ingest that.”
“You’re right. Deedee? Come here girl. Come, sit.” Kane coaxed her.
Dave gently looked at Deedee’s paws, they were bright red and hot. She pulled one back like it hurt but she was torn, not to leave Chris.
Deedee allowed Kane to submerge her feet into warm water, then gently dried her feet. Kane creamed them with Silvadene, covered them with Stockenette, plastic, and tape, as Dave held her, petting her. Deedee licked his face, wagged her tail a bit as if to say ‘thank you’, and lay down on her side.
“You’re a great dog Deedee,” Kane said petting her as she wagged her tail.
“The best.” Dave kissed her.
Hal sat on the back bumper. He petted Deedee while she lay there quietly.
“Mango’s gonna lose it. He should have been here by now.”
Dave nodded and sighed, then began to worry.
“Ya, I know. Kane? Let’s give her a quarter dose of the trank so she’ll keep those bandages on. Put her in the cab on the front seat.”
“Sure Dave,” Kane said.
Deedee yelped a bit as Kane injected her.
“Sorry, girl.”
Hal petted her as the drug quickly took effect. Hal kissed Chris’s cold forehead, then picked up Deedee.
“I’ll baby sit her,” Hal said, needing to get away. Hal carried her to the front seat.
Dave motioned to Kane to follow Hal. Dave climbed back into the ambulance and covered Chris with several blankets.
Hal’s walkie squawked. It was Jeb. Hal quickly handed Deedee off to Kane.
“Wait one, Jeb.”
Kane put Deedee in the cab.
The guys soothed the two dogs that had returned with them, as the dogs were concerned about Deedee as he put her in the front seat.
Hal said, “Jeb?
What have you got?”
“Uncovered car one. Recapping. A family. A teenage girl, her father, and their Golden from the car, caught in the avalanche. The Andersen’s from Santa Barbara their registration says. I Googled them. Elise Andersen, the mother wasn’t with them. No evidence of a third passenger. I’d assume Ms. Andersen is also a target, Hal. Howie’s stable. Ben feels totally responsible. Howie’s in his ambulance. The new guy Allen is here dead too. This was a hit, Hal. Get this. I see a bruised injection mark on Allen’s neck and on the daughter and father. Between their third and fourth finger. We still haven’t found the other car that was honking. Must be completely buried.”
“Maybe somebody with a plane can find that Ford diesel one ton with the camper shell. CSI-LA will arrive in about forty-five minutes. Thank God for the weather window. And call the Feds. And Jeb? I’m sorry to have to tell you this... they took out Chris. It wasn’t Chris who blew the ridge. We found Chris because he planted his GPS and Cell before he bought it. My clever boy foiled their plans.”
SID WAS LISTENING on his CB. He texted Dear, then banked west after the Ford one-ton. He checked Flightaware, the plane locator. Mavra's BBJ was over Utah.
BEN and all the guys were listening with Howie, who went ballistic.
“No fucking way! Not Chris. For God’s sakes, why?”
“They took his explosives, and his patrol jumpsuit to make it look like him. They’re probably listening to us aren’t you, you fuckers? One of them tried to warn us, but I was too dumb to get it. Fucker is still out there. We couldn’t bring Chris back. Deedee found him in a shallow grave,” Hal broke up.
Jeb knew and waited.
“The same sadistic fucks who blew the ridge to kill this family, and the lost car, took out Chris with drugs, I’m sure of it now. Someone with big bucks is behind this. Give Paul their registration so Paul can contact next of kin and call all the alphabets. The Mother may be in danger. Delegate Jeb. I’ve got to deal with Mango who’s on his way here but damn late. Out.” Hal looked up.
Dave, Kane and his team watching him were stunned.
UP ON THE MOUNTAIN, Curtis said to Kim, “Troop and Scooter are still out there. So someone may still be around. We’ve got to find the other GPS right?”
“Naah. It was the imposter in Chris’ gear. Just trace their trail.”
Curtis, Kim, and other guys with guns checked them, and skied off following the missing dogs’ direction, blowing their dog whistles.
Hal got into the front seat of the ambulance leaned his elbows on the steering wheel, and cried. He lay down by Deedee, petting her to comfort himself, though it didn’t do much good.
‘They’d killed our boy. I didn’t find him in time to save him. One of them warned me. I didn’t think fast enough girl. Maybe it’s time to retire.’
A FEW MINUTES later Curtis called in.
“Hal? Good news!! We’re on him now. Lone skier, his trail breaks off, off of Dead Man’s Ridge. Ah? Looks like we’ve got a para-skier. He jumped the ridge. We’ll see if we can get around to the other side. Want to have the dogs check the old fire road from the other side. O.K.?”
“Damn you’re great, you guys. Document. Finding his trail is a real break. Yes, do whatever it takes. It’s your gig. If I’m gone from the lot by the time you get back, secure the road then let the CSI team do what they want. Keep me informed. By then we’ll have a million choppers. You’re in charge. Out. Bob? Hal here. Copy?”
“Ya, Hal? Bob, here. Is Chris really gone?”
“Sorry Bob. Yes. He’s gone. Someone took him out. We need to find a one ton, white Ford diesel long bed with camper shell with doors, not a lift gate, no plates on the fire road going westbound, below the avalanche site. I can feel them… and on the old fire road below Manley’s Bowl. Got fresh ski lines. Dogs, Kim and Curtis, Mike and Brad in pursuit.”
SID TURNED THE PLANE WESTBOUND. The snow shower had blown eastward. There was a hole in the storm and he took advantage of it. He scoured the area and found nothing. He suspected they’d thrown snow camo over the truck.
Sid contacted Bob at base camp and reported in as he turned south.
“Avalanche Patrol Base this is N-1987NM flying south from Reno.”
Bob responded, “Come in 1987.”
“Just checked out your quadrant. Found tracks but no truck. Could be snow camo’d by now. I’m a bit worried about ice so I have to abandon search. I’d ground all planes currently at the airport. Sorry I came up empty and sorry for your losses. I’ll look for them on the 395 Southbound. Good luck. 1987 Out.”
“Roger 1987. Thanks for trying. Base Out.”
Sid headed home. He couldn’t get further involved, but knowing they couldn’t be too far south if they’d made it passed him, he checked 395 15 miles south of Lone Pine then headed back home empty. He’d failed Elise and Dez. Everyone had.
“HAL? Bob here. I got the APB from Jeb minutes ago. I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. I wanted to update you. Tina’s on her way in from Bishop. Paul, the C.H.P. and every one off duty are on their way. Chopper still gone on that transport. No one is answering their phones. I left messages. We’ll have a dozen choppers en route in thirty minutes. I’ve notified the towers at all the local airports too. Had one pilot report in. Found nothing in the search quadrant. But he had to go. Ice. Said to ground all planes at the airport. Will vector manpower there. So sorry, Hal. I can’t believe it. Not Chris. Should I tell the others?”
“Sure. See if you can raise Rick. I want him at the airport. Ask him to check logs, if anyone has left in the last hour. Pull in all your favors, do a DMV search of all one tons with trailers and snowmobiles. It could be stolen too. Those fuckers are still in our neighborhood. Somewhere!”
“I’ve done that. We’ll find the fuckers, I promise. I’ll get all the tail numbers that left recently from Rick if he’s there, but you know the tower’s closed.”
“Copy. We’ve got multiple murders. We need the Feds right now.”
“Roger that. They were next. Sorry about Chris, Hal. Truly sorry.”
“Me too. Out.” ‘Sorry Duke.’ Hal put his face in his hands and cried.
RIPPLES and her Team Two dogs found the METAPHOR team of four in their SUV dead. The chips missing from their phones wouldn’t be noticed until the authorities tried to call their next of kin, but their ‘M’ tattoos would be documented.
MANGO HAD FOUND his front tire and spare slashed when he ran out of his condo.
He’d left his phone upstairs but didn’t get it. He felt stiffer, like from a long workout. The walkie wasn’t in his car. He looked at his watch. Hal would kill him.
In his neighbor’s car he’d hot-wired, Mango sped up to the gondola lot.
“Shit, why didn’t I get my phone?” ‘Because you don’t want any bad news.’
When Mango turned into the lot, and saw the ambulance, his crowd a hundred yards away, there’s only one reason they were all there. Dave stood by the back of the ambulance, idle.
‘No mother fuck it. Not good at all.’ Mango flew out of the Jeep, full of rage.
Hal was coming to meet him from the ambulance. Hal stopped him. “He’s gone, son.”
Mango tore past Hal and Dave. He was hearing himself screaming and crying. Mango fought his way to the ambulance. ‘Had Chris hit a tree?’
A knife-like pain gripped his heart, and as he grabbed his left arm it felt like a hot poker. Mango collapsed onto his knees.
Dave and Kane ran to Mango, sobbing, clutching his chest gulping air. Dave realized both his buddies had to have a drug on board. Given to them by those women from last night.
Dave had been at the Tavern with them last night, left to take a leak, and when he returned these gorgeous city chicks that looked like identical twins were all over Chris and Mango, so he never re-joined them, but watched from afar.
Seated at the bar, Chris had searched for Dave and found him in a corner. Chris shrugged and Dave raised his glass in a toast.
Dav
e watched them slam back Tequila shooters and dance most of the night. And boy, could those women dance. All eyes were on them. Then Dave watched them leave, together.
He had gone home alone, as usual. Women could smell his PTSD and stayed away. Chris dead. Mango not himself. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else.
“Dave? What the hell is it?” Hal asked, helping Mango onto a gurney.
“He’s having an anxiety attack or maybe a heart attack. Drive us to the E.R. I want Kane back here and you checked out.”
“Jesus. O.K.”
They shoved Mango in the back of the ambulance. The curtains were closed on Chris’ side. Dave hoped Mango would keep his eyes shut as he and Kane got him hooked up to the monitor.
Dave started an IV in each of Mango’s forearms. Kane had the IVs primed. With sirens blaring, Hal drove down the mountain as quickly as they dared to the little mountain hospital. Hal radioed ahead.
“Take these.” Dave handed him four baby aspirin. “Chew them.”
Dave put the O2 mask on. He cranked Mango’s oxygen to ten liters. Dave understood the panicked look in Mango’s eyes. He’d seen it for years in the eyes of his young soldier patients.
“Close your eyes Mango. Concentrate on my voice. That’s it. Take slow breaths. See in your mind the O2 feeding that big heart of yours. That’s it.”
Kane slapped on EKG stickies and hooked Mango up. Kane slapped a cuff on his arm. Normal sinus but close to tachycardia. B/P moderately elevated, a little sweat forming on his upper lip and forehead.
“Dave I’m cold. Can I have a blanket?”
“Sure. How you doing Mango?”
“Who would want to kill our boy?” Mango asked as tears streamed down his face.
“Bad people sent those women, Mango. Let’s concentrate on you.”
“Those fucking bitches were… a set-up? Am I having a heart attack?”
“Could be an anxiety attack, knowing Chris is gone. He had the same symptoms. Get that O2 in. That’s it. Remember your Yoga. Whisper. Uses less energy. You’re safe now, Mango.”
Kane watched Dave. He was so efficient with his moves, wasting no time. Dave had taught him well. Kane had the meds out if Mango went south.