Wildland

by Rebecca Hodge

  Malcolm hoped with every fiber of his being that what he was saying was true.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THURSDAY, 12:55 PM

  Kat slogged onward, clinging to the guide rope as a lifeline, pulling herself forward hand over hand, too exhausted to focus on anything but the few feet of sludgy water in front of her.

  Her legs shook uncontrollably, and a vise clamped her head as if trying to crack open her skull. Her shriveled lungs demanded more air than she could give them. The water slid up a little higher along her chest. Very peaceful. The crackling of the fire. Winter evenings when Jim would cook popcorn and she and Sara would play Scrabble. Hot chocolate. A good book. A nap. Just a short little nap.

  A hand closed painfully around Kat’s arm.

  “Almost gave up on you.” Scott’s voice.

  Kat lifted her head. She’d made it.

  “This way.” Lily gasped out the words. Kat meant to reply, but the intention slipped away.

  “You’re next.” Scott said it as if he expected her to understand. Next for what?

  Straps tightened around her body.

  A clicking sound—a heavy snakelike cable clipped onto the straps.

  “Okay, Pete. Ready.”

  Scott talking, but no one named Pete here.

  The cable tightened, and the straps pulled snug. Kat rose into the air, drawn upward, away from the water. She could fly.

  The surface of the pond disappeared below. Her hair, skin, and clothing dried fast, all exposed skin parched and crispy. The water of the pond had provided some relief, but now the heat reached up to envelop her, as if she were being tugged upward through a working chimney. Smoke choked her, and ash clogged every breath.

  A noisy roar came from above her, louder and louder, then an open door, hands reaching, a stranger pulling her into a cluttered space. Relief flooded her body like water released from a burst dam, but she had no tears left to cry, no voice left to speak her gratitude.

  A scarred man, familiar, one arm in a sling, gently unfastened her harness and pulled it off. No name to go with the voice. Kat fell forward and buried her face against his chest, blue cotton streaked with soot. A strong arm closed around her, kept her from falling. Blackness telescoped inward and the blue shirt shrank as if it moved far away. Follow the shirt; that much she remembered, but she couldn’t remember why such a task was so important. She fell toward it, such a blessed release, such a restful letting go.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THURSDAY, 1:05 PM

  Two people safe, plus a dog. Two more to go, plus the puppy. Even the grinding pain from his arm couldn’t temper Malcolm’s buoyancy. Against all odds, they were almost there.

  Pete swore under his breath. “Need some help here.”

  Malcolm reluctantly let go of his optimism and dropped back into the urgencies of the moment. “Coming.”

  He eased Kat onto the deck beside Juni and Nirav. His son’s breathing had improved slightly, and he acted somewhat aware of his surroundings, but Kat remained in bad shape. She had drifted out of consciousness, and there were long pauses in her breathing that didn’t bode well. The faster they got Scott and Lily up here, the faster they could get to a hospital.

  He climbed awkwardly over the inert bodies and joined Pete at the open cargo door. “What’s up?”

  “I’m trying to get the cable down to them again, but it keeps sticking. Take this remote while I check the motor.”

  “Got it.” The yellow flare hung only a few yards below the helicopter. An empty harness hung from the hook, flapping and twisting in the helicopter’s backwash.

  “Can’t see anything yet,” Scott said from below. Malcolm and Pete exchanged glances.

  “Stand by,” Malcolm said.

  “Stand by? What the hell? Send now. Smoke worse.”

  “Roger that.” Malcolm tried to sound calming. Pete removed the engine cowling and poked at something unseen with a screwdriver.

  “It’s all this crap in the air,” he said. “It’s gumming everything up. Almost have it.” He worked for another minute, then nodded. “Okay, try again.”

  Malcolm hit the down arrow on the remote, and this time the flare disappeared smoothly into the smoke. “On its way.”

  “About time.” Scott’s irritation came through loud and clear.

  The now-familiar sequence played out. Scott reported in when he spotted the flare and retrieved the harness and cable. A long pause followed, and Malcolm pictured him adjusting the harness for Lily.

  “Face me,” Scott said. Good, he was giving Lily instructions. “Dog between us.”

  A quiet mumble came from the girl. If she was in as bad shape as Nirav and Kat, Scott had his hands full.

  “He’ll be fine. I’ve threaded the straps of your harness through his.” He must be talking about the dog.

  Another garbled comment came from Lily.

  “Close your eyes. Don’t look when we go up. I’ve got you.”

  Finally, Scott gave the word. “Okay. We’re ready.”

  Malcolm’s thumb started for the up switch, but Scott spoke again.

  “Wait. Wait. Not yet.” A pause. “Okay. Ready now. I had to untie the toolbox.”

  Yes, that would help.

  Malcolm pushed the switch and the winch came to life. Pete hovered over the motor, making adjustments, and the cable spooled upward for ten yards. Fifteen. And then it froze.

  “Shit.” Pete worked frantically.

  “What’s happening?” Scott asked. “What’s wrong? We’ve stopped.” His coughs—and Lily’s—came through clearly. They were hanging now in the densest smoke, down where the air looked thick enough to scoop with a spoon.

  “Hang on. Winch is binding again.”

  “Dad. We’re stuck.” Lily’s voice was pitiful and shaking.

  “Not stuck, Lily. Just a pause.” Scott was obviously making every effort to be reassuring, and Malcolm hoped the confidence wasn’t misplaced. The cable twisted slowly, which meant Scott and Lily were swiveling through a 360-degree view of nothing but smoke.

  Malcolm’s headset suddenly went silent, the background static gone. Lou pivoted in her chair. “I cut off the audio—they don’t need to hear this.” She was yelling to be heard. “We need to get out of here. Engines are overheating.”

  “Damn winch is frozen solid. I’m not making headway.” Pete gave Malcolm a pleading look.

  “Sorry, engines aren’t my thing. Can we pull them up by hand?”

  Pete shook his head. “Not with only the two of us.” He glanced at Malcolm’s worthless arm.

  “Will the cable hold if we pull them along with us?” Malcolm asked. Pete nodded. “Lou, can you get to an open spot and get them down to the ground safely?”

  There was a lengthy pause that didn’t inspire confidence. “Don’t think we have any choice.”

  “Okay. Turn the headsets back on.”

  Lou reached out and flipped a switch, and Scott’s voice came through. “Anytime now,” he said.

  “Scott.” Lou had sounded doubtful when she agreed to the plan, but she didn’t let Scott hear that now. “The helicopter engine is overheating. The filters can’t handle this smoke. We think the winch has the same problem. It’s frozen. I’m going to move away from the fire.”

  “Move? What the hell do you mean? Move with us outside? Hanging here?”

  Scott’s voice was a shriek, and Malcolm didn’t blame him one little bit. Scott’s face had been a mask of pure terror when he almost got pulled out of the helicopter, and that was nothing compared to what they were proposing.

  “The cable will hold. It’s good for thousands of pounds. Just hold still.”

  “You are fucking kidding me.” Scott’s comment dissolved into a coughing fit. “Lily, hang on. Keep your eyes closed. Don’t look down.”

  Malcolm thought he heard a small whimper, but he couldn’t tell if it came from Lily or Tye. They were so close—so excruciatingly close—to success. They couldn’t lose them no
w.

  The helicopter surged forward, gaining elevation as they went. Pete abandoned the winch, and he and Malcolm peered down into the mass of gray. The cable began to angle backward as Scott and Lily were dragged sideways through the smoke, two marionettes on the end of a fragile string.

  The helicopter picked up speed, but the smoke was still so thick that nothing was visible. They needed to get Scott and Lily to fresh air.

  At last, the helicopter broke free of the clinging smoke. Sunshine, patches of blue sky, clear air. Malcolm breathed in deeply—cool fresh air that didn’t scald his throat—and his chest loosened. Seconds later, the distant end of the cable also left the smoke bank. “There they are!”

  Scott and Lily were being pulled behind them like water skiers skirting the wake of a motorboat. The two hung face-to-face, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Tye was barely visible, a bit of fur squashed between them. Lily had buried her eyes in her father’s shoulder, probably too scared to even try to look, and Scott stared only at the helicopter, as if actively avoiding any view of the distant rocky ground.

  “Get us up there!” Scott yelled a complete sentence without a cough. At least that was an improvement. A spate of profanity followed. He was definitely getting more air.

  “The winch is fried,” Malcolm said. “We’re going to land. Get you inside.”

  “Land? Are you crazy?”

  “Going down now,” Lou announced.

  The helicopter slowed and lost altitude. The cable, instead of dragging Scott and Lily behind them, returned to vertical. Below them, a stretch of dirt road, away from the fire. Enough open space for the chopper.

  “Lily, we’re going to land.” Scott’s voice came through the headphones shrill and pinched, and Malcolm wished there was something he could do to help. “Wrap your legs around me. Hold on tight.”

  “No. No. No.” Lily sounded completely freaked-out.

  “It will be fine,” Scott said. “They do this all the time.”

  Not quite. The only time Malcolm could recall seeing anything like this was in a James Bond movie. With a professional stuntman. And this was no movie.

  Without the smoke in the way, he could see Scott clearly. He had clamped both arms even more tightly around Lily. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he would take the brunt of the landing impact. Very sensible. Now they needed to get them down without any damage.

  The helicopter sank lower. Lower still. The road inched closer. Tire tracks became visible, then rocks, then pebbles. Scott and Lily were five feet off the ground. Three feet. One. Scott’s knees hardly flexed when his feet hit, the impact less violent than if he’d stepped off a chair.

  “Beautiful job, Lou. Beautiful.” Malcolm said. If Scott had any sense, he should fall to his knees in thanks for her skill.

  “Made it.” Relief was audible in Scott’s voice. “Lily, you okay? Let me get you unhooked.”

  Lily wasn’t moving, still clinging to her father, and Scott fumbled with the cable, trying to detach it. They were standing in the center of the only possible landing site. Pete hung out of the side door of the helicopter and yelled. “Unhook and get out of the way.”

  The chopper dropped even lower, and yards of cable coiled on the ground. The hook end finally fell free of the two harnesses.

  “This way.” Scott gave Lily a shake, grabbed her by the arm, and half led, half dragged her off to one side. He’d lost a shoe somewhere along the line, and he limped heavily across the rocks. The helicopter settled to the ground behind them, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and dirt.

  “Come on.” Pete began pulling the cable in hand over hand, waving them in.

  “Almost there,” Scott said to Lily. He boosted her into the cargo hold, and Pete slammed the door closed behind them.

  “Oh my god.” Scott reached out to touch the vibrating wall of the helicopter as if he couldn’t quite believe it was real. “Oh my god. We made it. No pond. No fire. No smoke.” He wrapped Lily in an enormous hug, then turned to Malcolm and Pete. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I thought we were done for.”

  “All set?” Lou called.

  “Head for the nearest hospital.” Malcolm settled back beside Nirav and Kat, a sharp spasm in his arm reminding him of its damage.

  The helicopter sped over the landscape, and Lou issued terse details over the radio—smoke inhalation … fractured arm … emergency.

  Emergency was the right word. Injured people and dogs filled every square foot of open space in the cargo hold, making it look like a poorly equipped field hospital.

  “Twenty minutes to Mission,” Pete said.

  Twenty minutes. With these three in such bad shape, twenty minutes sounded like eternity.

  Lily sagged against Scott’s side. Dirt layered her face, dried pond scum stiffened her clothes, and soot sludged her orange hair into a knotted tangle. Cuts and scratches and bruises covered every inch of exposed skin. She coughed steadily and took short quick breaths, even though the air in the helicopter had cleared and the air conditioning was making headway on the heat.

  Scott unfastened Lily’s harness, unweaving its straps from the puppy’s. Tye wiggled out of Lily’s arms as soon as he realized he was free. He crouched unsteadily on the vibrating floor and lifted his head to sniff the air. Blood dripped from the raw wound encircling his neck, but he stumbled forward in a straight path, directly toward Nirav.

  Nirav lay still, apparently oblivious to everything around him, but when the puppy crawled beside him and buried its nose against his side, he let go of the Labrador and wrapped his arm around the little dog.

  Kat lay curled on the deck. She hadn’t even lifted her head to look when Scott and Lily arrived, her eyes closed and her body slack. She took two shallow breaths close together, followed by an endless pause that had Malcolm mentally rehearsing his CPR, but then her chest finally gulped another lungful of air.

  Lily tried several times to say something, but her weak voice couldn’t fight the engine noise.

  “Don’t try to talk.” Scott put his arm around her. “Pete, we need oxygen.”

  Pete gave Lily a worried glance but shook his head. “Sorry, no oxygen—we’re not equipped for major medical.” He rummaged through his supply duffle, pulling out water bottles and handing them around. “Drink slowly,” he advised.

  Pete shifted forward and peered at a raw oozing burn that covered the palm of Kat’s right hand and extended up along her wrist.

  “Looks like she must have grabbed hold of something actively burning,” he said. “Wish we could do something, but these injuries need more than a slapped-on bandage.”

  Malcolm shifted forward to give him more room, and for the first time, he saw the soles of Kat’s bare feet. Even through a layer of drying mud, he could tell they were riddled with deep cuts. One of her big toes stuck out to the side at an unnatural angle, swollen and sickly black.

  When he looked away, he met Scott’s eyes.

  “She did an unbelievable job,” Malcolm said.

  Scott nodded. “Down there. In that pond. I can’t even tell you how awful it was. She walked out on feet like that to save two kids who aren’t even hers. Not to mention bringing along two idiot dogs.”

  Malcolm glanced at Juni and Tye. “Lou, radio ahead and ask for transport to take these dogs to a vet. I’ll cover costs.” He shrugged at Scott. “After all she’s done to get these dogs out, it’s the least I can do.”

  Pete scrambled over the tangle of bodies and wedged himself into the copilot seat. The engine roared on.

  “Lou, are you going to get in trouble for turning your radio off?” Malcolm asked.

  The pilot’s chuckle came through clearly. “Turn my radio off? I think you’re mistaken. Two trips out. Seven people rescued. That’s not the track record of a crew that would screw around with a radio.”

  Malcolm let a micro-smile escape. “I stand corrected.” He glanced at Scott. “A shame that satellite phone fell out in the turbulence.”

&
nbsp; “Nothing we could have done,” Scott said with a genuine grin. “A real shame.”

  Endless minutes later, Lou requested landing instructions from the hospital, and Malcolm looked out the window. They were hovering over a sprawling complex of buildings with a landing area on one roof. A cluster of people wearing blue scrubs and white coats stood beside a line of wheeled gurneys at the edge of the marked landing zone. They turned their backs and shielded their eyes from the chopper’s backwash.

  “I hope everything turns out all right,” Lou said.

  “I can’t thank you and Pete enough.” As far as Malcolm was concerned, they both deserved medals. “My office will transfer funds.” With a spectacular bonus added in.

  Lou brought the helicopter down in a gentle landing, then turned around in her chair and surveyed her grubby passengers. “All in the job description.” Even though her voice had been business-as-usual, her face struggled to stay composed.

  “More exciting than hauling executives on business junkets,” Pete said. He unlocked the cargo door and clapped Scott on the shoulder, which sent him teetering off-balance. “We’ll wait here for the dog transport.”

  Someone outside flung the door open with a bang, and a half dozen medical people leaned in to survey the mess. The man in front—close-cropped beard, bushy eyebrows, a stethoscope around his neck—assessed the crush of bodies. His inspection passed quickly over Scott and Lily, paused at Nirav, who watched the activity through half-open eyes, and lingered longest on Kat, who hadn’t stirred.

  “The woman. How long was she trapped in the fire, breathing smoke?” His New Jersey accent clipped every word short.

  “Hours,” Malcolm said. “The two children the same.”

  The team moved fast, helping Scott and Lily out first, who were closest to the door and who at least were sitting up. A nurse eased Lily onto one of the rolling stretchers, slipped an oxygen mask over her face, and pressed a stethoscope to her chest. One of the waiting men took hold of Lily’s stretcher, and the nurse gave cryptic instructions. They whisked away with Scott close behind.