by Ann Gimpel
“Let’s go back to the ranger station,” Sara suggested. “Talk among yourselves and decide who will be in the first bird. It won’t take long to fly to the hut, but you have to be ready to exit the bird immediately after I set it down, which means any equipment you need will be strapped to your bodies. That way I won’t have to wait for you to hand things out.”
“Got it.” Kevin waved the others into motion and they headed toward the trail.
The rise and fall of his voice reached Jared, but he didn’t work to sort out the conversation. He was too worried about Sara. Even though the logical part of his brain told him he was full of crap, the other side knew that if anything happened to her, it would be his fault for not protecting her.
He’d finally found a woman he could love, and he wanted to do everything in his power to keep her by his side.
* * * *
Sara stood by the door of the chopper and counted as six NASA scientists, including Kevin, piled inside. The mini-generators were packaged into backpacks. Per Jared’s suggestion, Christine remained at LeConte. In truth, she was too ill to do anything else. The radar unit would be with Sara while she flew, but she’d return it to Christine and the others once the flights were done.
She started up the chopper’s ladder-like steps, but Jared gripped her wrist. “Do not take any unnecessary chances.”
She flushed, pleased he cared, but feeling smothered. “I’ve been taking care of myself back here for a long time. Stick with our plan, okay?”
“You got it.” He let go, and she vaulted into her seat, shutting the door behind her. The best plan they’d come up with was if she wasn’t back in half an hour, he’d start up the trail with Jake and the other sidearm. Christine’s radar sat next to Sara on the floor, mercifully silent.
Jake whined, staring at the closed helicopter door.
“I know.” Jared petted the shepherd’s head. “No room for you, plus you’re safer here.”
Jake barked once, the tone making it known he disagreed vehemently.
Sara leaned out the open window next to her seat. “Take care of each other.”
Jared gave her a thumbs-up, and she engaged the engine. Once the rotors began thumping, she couldn’t hear anything else from outside. She hoped Christine’s warning system could be heard over the engine noise.
Guess I’ll find out.
She checked her instruments and fed fuel to the chopper’s engine. Her heart thudded against her chest. Once she’d returned from McClure, she didn’t plan to use the bird again—certainly not this soon.
Kevin sat in the copilot’s seat. “Thank you for doing this for us.”
She glanced at him. “Did I have a choice?”
“Sure. We always have choices. You did the right thing.”
“We’ll be staying low,” she cautioned him. “Just so it doesn’t alarm you.”
“Got it.”
All too soon, they left trees where she might hide herself. Angling the bird, she almost clipped the top of Muir Pass before setting down.
“Watch the prop wash,” she cautioned and jumped to the ground, waiting for them to pile out. It didn’t happen as fast as she wanted, but nor did she hear the whine of Christine’s radar.
Sara didn’t let herself think. She clambered back into the bird and let it drop below the pass. Though she scanned the horizon, she didn’t see any other craft.
“One more trip,” she muttered. “This one went okay. The next one will too.”
Her hand slipped on the cyclic, and she realized it was slick with sweat. Moments later, she landed on the squared off pad next to LeConte. The minute she was out of the chopper, Jake jumped on her, and Jared pulled her into his arms.
“I love you guys.” Tension thrummed through her as she petted Jake and hugged Jared. “But I’m only half done.”
The second group streamed into the chopper. Not willing to be excluded a second time, Jake wriggled his way in, and she didn’t have the heart to chase him out.
Vivian took the copilot’s seat. Her face held a drawn look. “Jesus, but I want this to be over with,” she said as the chopper gained altitude.
“That would be all of us,” Sara said.
“You don’t get it.” Vivian shook her head. “This whole trade agreement was my idea. My baby. I pushed it through Congress.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Sara protested.
“Maybe I wasn’t looking closely enough.” Vivian’s voice was filled with recrimination. “I was so anxious to have a batch of aliens to study up-close and personal, I’d have done damn near anything to make it happen.”
From its spot on the floor, the radar began its high, thin whine.
“Crap! Fuck! Shit!” Sara eyed where they were. Still in trees, but they’d thinned out. “I’m putting us down.”
“What about the hut?” Vivian demanded. “Christine’s device is just a warning they’re close. They can’t see us yet.”
Sara wasn’t listening, wasn’t willing to take the chance. She dropped elevation and hovered, landing on uneven ground that made the craft tilt a bit to one side. At least the radar quieted.
She killed the engine and pushed the door open. “Everybody out,” she called.
“What happens next?” someone asked.
Sara didn’t answer until all of them were lined up next to the chopper. Jake remained inside, perched in the doorway, ready to come to her aid if need be.
“The way I see it,” she eyed the group, “you have two choices. It’s not a bad walk to the hut from here. Only about two miles, and we knocked off most of the climbing.” She hurried on before anyone could step in with an opinion. “As I see it, the main problem is whether you take the radar unit with you, or leave it with me to protect the others.”
“Radar stopped squealing,” one of the men noted. “You could fly us the rest of the way.”
Sara shook her head. “Not going to happen. It’s too exposed above timberline. If one of their ships is close, I’m not willing to risk it.”
“We’ll be exposed too.” Vivian’s voice was quiet, resigned. “How long will it take us from here? An hour?”
Shame swamped Sara. It would only take her about thirty minutes, but she couldn’t judge this group by her level of conditioning. “The radar thingie tells you direction too, doesn’t it?”
Vivian nodded. She climbed back into the bird, moving around Jake and got back out clutching the device and studying it. “Says they’re about ten miles that way.” She pointed to the west.
“Okay. Get back inside.” Sara’s stomach tightened into a knot, and bile burned the back of her throat. She didn’t have good feelings about this. “I’ll get you closer. As far as the last lake basin.”
Gratitude flowed from Vivian’s dark eyes. “We’d appreciate any help. We’ll leave the radar with you. The ones back at your station will need it worse than us, assuming we make it.”
“Is there any way for the rest of us to know?” Sara didn’t add the words if you make it. Vivian understood well enough without them.
Vivian nodded. “We have two-way radios. We haven’t used them because it allows the aliens to triangulate our position, but if we get there, we’ll key a mike.”
“Good enough. You’ll need to be outside the hut for the best transmission, but its line of sight, so it should go.”
Sara hugged the ground and kept the radar device in her lap. It didn’t go off again, and she let the group off at the lake before the final set of switchbacks to the hut. “Go as fast as you can,” she instructed them. “It’s not far. You can catch your breath later.”
Skin crawling with tension and the fine hairs on her arms and neck quivering with apprehension, Sara waited until everyone was headed up the switchbacks at a dead run, only five minutes from safety—ten max. She’d just gotten airborne again when the radar in her lap erupted, blaring so loud, she set it on the floor.
Jake barked at it.
Did the dual tones mean aliens were clo
ser? She peered at the readout, but was too close to the ground to take her attention away from flying the craft. Best thing she could do for the six human beings on their way to the hut was pray for them. They had guns. Hopefully, they’d put them to good use.
Chapter Nine
Sara blessed her military training as she piloted the craft back to LeConte. She was shaking and sweating and strung so tight, she wanted to scream, but she was still flying the bird, goddammit.
Somewhere between the lakes below the hut and LeConte, the radar cut off abruptly. The mood she was in, its silence was almost as ominous as its shrieking had been.
Jared scaled the ladder and tugged the helicopter door open the second she touched down. “What happened?” he demanded, his features drawn and worried. “You were gone too long.”
She handed him the radar unit and then crawled out of the chopper, only wanting to tell her story once. Jake hopped after her, sticking close.
The remaining seven from NASA huddled around Sara, peppering her with questions. Christine was too sick to move, so the group positioned themselves near the unconscious woman, in case she came around.
“Do any of you have your two-ways on?” Sara asked.
“No. Leads the bastards right to us,” a bald man said.
“Well, turn one on now. I’ll explain in a minute.”
The man who’d spoken dug a radio out of an inner pocket and thumbed it on.
Sara held out her hand for it, staring at the display. At least it had battery power. Still holding it, she told the group what happened. “...I’m sorry I chickened out,” she ended with. “I was just so certain if I brought the bird to the top of the pass, it’d get vaporized and all of us along with it. I know I was reacting, probably not thinking straight—”
“You did fine.” A tall, thin woman with brown hair interrupted, training her blue eyes on Sara. “More than fine. Even if this second group sustains some losses, you got enough of us into position to fix things.”
Sara didn’t feel like she’d done more than fine. In truth, she felt she’d failed.
The radio in her hand beeped once, its display lighting.
“Hey!” the bald man beamed. “They made it.” Cheers broke out.
Sara stared at the radio in her hand. She’d been so sunk in blaming herself, the significance hadn’t registered.
The man grabbed the radio back, keyed it once, and shut it off. “There,” he said. “Now they’ll know we heard them.”
Jared closed his arms around her. “It’s okay. You did good. Come inside. I have hot water on the stove.”
She pulled away from him. “Not yet. What happens next?” she asked the remaining scientists.
“The ones up top will begin transmitting,” the tall woman said. “Worst part will be the next six hours or so.” She swept the group with her gaze. We should take the radar and move away from here. Christine is helpless, and if we go, we’ll lead the heat away from her.”
Heads nodded, and murmurs of assent swept through the group.
“Some of the ones I left at the hut had guns,” Sara said. “Do any of you?”
“Yes,” the bald man said. “Look, we’ve been outrunning those slimebags for two weeks. We can manage for a few more hours.”
“We’ll meet you back here once the worst of it’s over with,” the tall woman said.
Without waiting for more conversation, the group left the ranger station after taking the radar unit from Jared.
Sara hunkered next to Christine. The woman’s face was gray and her breathing labored. “Would you like us to move you inside?” she asked.
Jared squatted next to her. “She’s unconscious, probably slipped into a coma. I asked her that same question, though, when she could still talk, and she said she’d rather die outside.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
He shook his head. “IV antibiotics might help, but she needs a trauma center.”
“I could fly her out of here once they’re done with whatever they’re doing in the Muir Hut. Fresno’s not far by air.”
Jared laid a hand on her arm. “You could. Odds of her being alive thirty-six hours from now aren’t good.” He straightened. “Come inside. You look about done in.”
She felt more than done in. Running on fumes, she plodded up the stairs after him, Jake right behind her. He made a beeline for his dish and began crunching kibbles.
“Shit!” She rolled her eyes. “Wish I could just tuck into my dinner and forget all this.”
He tugged a chair out for her and pushed her into it. She sat heavily and supported her head with one hand, elbow resting on the table. “I should be up at Muir with them,” she said.
“Why?” Jared plunked a steaming mug of tea in front of her and poured a jot of booze into it. “No one asked you to stay with them. They seemed like a competent bunch, all in all.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She blew on steam rising off the metal mug before taking a small sip. It burned her tongue, but it felt good going down, all heat with a bite of scotch. She glanced at Jared. “I’m glad you didn’t head up the trail after me. I’d have had no way to get hold of you. I have radios, but didn’t think to drag them out.”
“It’s okay, Sara.” He placed his hand over one of hers and dragged the other chair beside her, settling into it. “Yeah, I was close to leaving, but I didn’t. Even if I had, I would’ve heard the chopper and doubled back.”
“Oh yeah, huh?” She dragged her hand from beneath his and sifted fingers through her hair. “Guess I’m not thinking very straight.”
“You have every right not to. You’ve had a hell of a couple of weeks.”
“Do you suppose whatever they’re doing up at the hut will really fix this?”
Jared shrugged. “They think it will. I don’t see any reason not to believe them.”
“Mmph. Guess all we can do now is wait.”
He nodded. “I mixed up some freeze-dried glop from my pack. Saved you some on the back of the stove, so it’s still probably warm.”
She smiled weakly. “Sounds good. Haven’t had anything since the oatmeal and energy bar we called breakfast.”
He squeezed her shoulder and got to his feet, returning with a bowl of noodles in an oriental looking sauce. “I’m going to check on Christine. Be right back.”
Jake padded to her side and looked meaningfully at her dish, whining softly.
“Sorry, dude. You had your dinner. This is mine.”
As if he understood, he retraced his steps and laid next to his dish, head on his paws, watching her.
* * * *
Jared bent over Christine’s inert form. She was still breathing, but beyond that, she’d sunk to a place she’d likely never surface from. Sweat beaded her forehead, probably fever from whatever infection was ripping through her body. He tucked a sleeping bag one of the scientists had offered more firmly around her and watched the sun heading for the western horizon.
LeConte was in a deep canyon, which meant it got the sun late and lost it early. This late in the year, the problem was even worse. Sara looked trashed. He wanted to give her something to help her sleep and tuck her into bed, but that wasn’t a good idea. If anything happened, the last thing she needed was to be sedated to the gills.
He’d been frantic as minutes had turned to half an hour and she didn’t return from the second trip up the mountainside. He’d just been gathering his pack when the whump of rotors sent him to the landing pad at a fast trot. It sounded like she’d had a damned close call. Good thing she’d followed her instincts—rather than her conscience—and not flown to the top of the pass on that last trip.
After a final check of Christine’s pulse, which was fast and thready, he turned and mounted the steps back into the cabin. An hour had passed since the group left. If they were correct, after five more they’d be past the worst of repercussions from the aliens. Hell, just the thought of having them on the run made him smile.
Who knew wha
t would be left of his old life, but it didn’t matter. He’d built what he had from nothing, and he could do it again. This time with Sara by his side. He paused before opening the door. What if she didn’t want him? Worse, what if she insisted on keeping her backcountry ranger job? When the answer came, it was so simple, it surprised him. No reason he couldn’t be a backcountry doc for the Park Service. Surely they used medical personnel. Maybe he was a shred overqualified, but so what?
He pushed the door open. Sara still sat at the table sipping the tea and booze mix he’d given her.
“How is she?” Sara raised her gaze to him.
“Fading.”
“Are you sure she wouldn’t be better off in here?”
“She might be, but people have a right to decide where they want to die.”
“Of course, you’re right.” She moved her eyes to the cabin’s one window. “Want to go to the creek and watch the sunset? It’s usually pretty dramatic when there are clouds.”
“Sure.” He tugged his coat off a hook and shrugged into it. “Temp is dropping.”
Sara stood and zipped the parka she’d never taken off. “We can build up the fire after we get back.”
He thought about calling the dog, but the minute Sara got to her feet, Jake joined her and headed out the door first. “He’s a good boy.”
“Yeah.” Sara smiled. “The best. I haven’t been nearly as lonely back here since I got permission to keep him with me.”
If Jared had his way, she’d never be lonely again, but how to broach the subject? He walked next to her down a well-worn trail to the creek. It bubbled and burbled over stones on its way to the Pacific Ocean.
Sara sat on a large, flat rock and patted the place next to her. “All the ranger cabins are different,” she said. “This one has a wild river that runs all year. The creek next to mine freezes over, but it has the hot spring.”
Jared settled next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him. “I’ve been thinking about after,” he said.
“Wondering what’ll be left out there?” She waved an arm toward the west.
“That, and trying to figure out how I can keep you in my life.” There. He’d said it. He sucked in a breath, waiting for her response.