by Lou Cadle
They shook hands with Akroyd. Norio had already moved off down the road.
Corey called, “Godspeed.”
Ellen said, “Hurry.”
Akroyd said, “We will.”
When they moved beyond hearing range, Ty turned off his phone. They sat on the ground by the pilot’s side. Ty put his arm around her. “It’s going to get cold in a very short while, here.”
“Take the sleeping bag,” said the pilot.
“Nope, you need it more,” said Ty.
“Take apart the stretcher, then. Put me in one bag and two of you take the other.
“Maybe in a while,” said Ty. “We’re fine for now. Good excuse to cuddle.”
Corey said, “How long have you two been married?”
“We’re not,” said Ty, pulling Ellen closer.
“Well, people don’t any more, I guess. They live together.”
Ellen said, “We’ve been dating three days.”
“No fooling?” Corey said. “Seems like you’re a comfortable old couple. Huh. Hell of a way to start dating.”
“Get all the drama out of the way at the beginning,” said Ty. “Maybe we won’t need to fight as much later on.”
Corey chuckled, then gasped. “Ouch. Hurts to laugh.”
Ellen said, “You should try and get some sleep anyway.”
“We all should,” said Ty. “I know I’m wiped out. I’m going to get some pine boughs to put down for bedding. The ground will be damned cold in a couple hours.”
“But it’s dark,” Ellen said.
“Cell phone if I need a light,” he reminded her.
“Be careful.”
“You bet.” He moved off into the dark.
Ellen missed his warmth. She sat silently next to Corey, unable to see him. But she could hear him; his breathing was getting ragged. She was worried for him and angry she couldn’t do anything to help. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, give him some human comfort, but she also wanted him to fall asleep if he could and escape his pain that way.
She could hear Ty as he gathered piles of downed boughs. He brought a load back and, while he went to get more, she stripped them down to get rid of the thickest sticks, piling up the softer bits into a nest. They worked for a long while at it. After some time, probably a half hour or more, there was enough for a pile the size of a man. She and Ty alone managed to lift Corey’s stretcher far enough to set him on the nest. Ty went back to get more boughs for the two of them to sit on.
Sitting on the dirt road waiting, she was getting cold. The night was strangely silent, without normal sounds of owls or insects. Probably every creature with half a brain had left the mountain hours ago, which meant what about her own intelligence? She wondered if other people had been caught on the mountain. What about people at the lodge? Other hikers? Who had been burned to death, or crushed, or suffocated, or succumbed to gas? She wondered what the statistics would be on the morning news. She thought about how those statistics translated into grief and loneliness for hundreds more. People like Ty’s parents and her mother.
She hoped desperately that Corey and she and Ty would not be counted among the dead, that her mother and friends would not be among the grieving.
She shivered, knowing that out there in the dark, somewhere beyond sight, the eruption still threatened.
27
Norio said, “I wish we could run.” He wanted to get down and deal with this situation so that he could get back up and recover the instruments and start processing the data.
“Not enough light for running,” said Akroyd.
He was right. The road had plenty of buried rocks and the occasional downed limb to trip them. Norio had already stumbled once. All they needed was for one of them to go down with a broken bone, too, and then where would they be?
They labored up a hill to another ridge. At the top, Norio stopped and looked around. The world in every direction was pitch black, which was good news, in a sense. Had there been harder erupting at this point, another nuee ardente, 1000 degrees Centigrade or more, would have radiated red or even yellow light, were it hot enough. No menace from the eruption was chasing them.
Though if pyroclasts had been racing toward them, they’d be as good as dead. Two surviving that in this eruption already was beating the odds.
Norio flipped on his cell phone again, then his radio. His radio crackled with faint static, for the first time in a while.
“Thank God,” said Akroyd.
It wasn’t nearly a strong enough signal to carry a message, but it was something, a sign they were making progress. “We need to get a little further. Next ridge, maybe.”
They went on in the dark, making good time now that they weren’t hauling the weight of the pilot.
“I wish I could call my wife,” Akroyd said. “She must be going crazy by now.”
Norio didn’t know what to say to that. “How are your ears?” he said instead.
“I don’t know. I’m still not hearing well.”
“It could be temporary.”
“I hope,” Akroyd said. “But I wonder if it could get worse instead, if these are the last hours of hearing I’ll experience.”
“You could still work, no matter what. The science can get done without hearing.”
“I guess. But I’d miss my wife’s voice. And my son’s. And music.”
“We’ll hurry. The sooner you see a doctor, the better.”
“We’ll go faster once the moon clears the eruption column,” Akroyd said.
They took one rest break. Norio was tired. But the thought of getting back to the CVO and downloading the video drove him forward. And getting those instruments recovered—just as important. He hoped he found the chance to sleep a couple hours tonight, but if he didn’t, he’d manage. A night’s sleep lost in exchange for recovering the instruments—now that would be an easy trade to make.
Finally, the moon came out and lit their path. The road began to rise again and, when they crested it, they could see lights in the distance, nothing volcanic, just regular electric town lights, creating an inverted bowl of light pollution glow over the whole valley. Tonight, it seemed beautiful.
They tried their cell phones and Norio’s got a signal. No bars, but a signal. He tried the CVO, but he could get no connection. “I don’t have a signal at all,” said Akroyd.
“I may as well not, it’s so weak. Here, try texting home on mine. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky.” He handed the phone over and took out the radio. Again, he heard crackling but this time, in a broken pattern that might be speech. He couldn’t make out words. Screw politeness. He broke in. “Grier and Akroyd to CVO. Do you copy? Over.” He let go of the transmitter button and waited, but he heard only crackling. He sent again: “If you copy, we’re fine. Trying to get off the mountain. Have good data. Over.” He listened again, hoping for a signal to clear but if anything the static got worse. “Grier and Akroyd, over and out,” he said and turned the radio off to conserve the batteries.
Akroyd was staring at him, his face too dim in the night to read, not as if Norio was good at reading expressions anyway.
“What?” Norio said.
“You didn’t mention the pilot.”
Oh, right. His focus was on the need to do his work. This might be the one chance in his life to do research like this. And this was his mountain. He knew it. He owed it his loyalty. “I doubt they could hear me anyway.”
Akroyd said, “Then let’s go find a signal for the radio or cell, or a moving car or some damned thing so we can get him help.”
They each drank a mouthful of water and took off again. Norio’s legs were burning, but he had to keep going.
28
Corey had fallen into a fitful sleep.
Ellen and Ty sat together on the pillow of pine boughs, each with an arm around the other for warmth. Ellen felt some solace from the contact, but what she’d give to be sleeping in a warm bed, with no worries, and both his arms around her.
&n
bsp; “Maybe I should have kept the tent. We’d be warmer,” he said.
“We’ll survive the night, won’t we?”
“We can get up and move around from time to time. It’s not cold enough to kill us.”
“I guess it should be pretty far down on my list of worries,” she said. “Compared to the volcano.” They sat in silence for a few more minutes, then she said, “You feel good to hold on to. Even though we still have ash dried on us and textured like scouring powder.”
“Wouldn’t a nice clear mountain stream be nice? We could wash off.”
“It’d be a bit cold. I vote for a hot shower in a nice hotel. And a big room-service breakfast with eggs and sausage and pancakes and fresh fruit.”
“Stop,” he said. “You’re killing me. I’m so hungry I could eat for an hour straight.”
“I’m worried about Corey,” she said.
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’d probably be in that same shape if you hadn’t hung on to me so tight during the wreck.”
“I wasn’t about to let go. But I thought I was probably bruising you, I was holding on so hard.”
“Oh, you did. And I’m grateful for every bruise. The metal of the helicopter would have done much more harm. I don’t know how you found the strength.”
“No? I do.” His arm tightened around her. “You hurt anywhere now?”
“Anywhere? I hurt everywhere!”
In the darkness, Corey moaned. Ellen got up creakily and limped over to him, her blisters really stinging now, after the short break from hiking. Her knees were starting to seize up, too. Wincing, she knelt beside him.
“You awake?” she said softly.
“Hurts,” Corey whispered.
“I know. I’m so sorry.” Her hand found his and she held on, offering what comfort she could.
“Tell my wife that I love her. And my daughter.”
“Stop it,” she said. “You’re being melodramatic. You can tell them in the morning.”
“No. You tell them.”
Damned man was making her eyes sting again. “They know,” she said “Like you know they love you.”
“Blood,” he said.
“What?” She felt her fear twisting tighter. “What about blood?” He was tasting blood, he felt blood? What?
But Corey had fallen silent again. She laid her hand on his chest, and when she felt its rise and fall, the fear untwisted a mite. What could she do for him? Nothing. Let him sleep. Hope that he didn’t die. Ellen didn’t know when she’d felt this useless. She was good in emergencies usually, but that typically meant calling 911 and comforting a kid for a short while until an ambulance or the school nurse or a parent arrived.
When he seemed to fade into sleep, she left Corey’s side and went back to Ty. “How is he?”
“Bad. Can’t get breath to say a whole sentence. He’s sleeping again.”
“We should sleep too if we can.”
“I don’t see how,” she said.
“Lie down, and we’ll try. At least we both have something warm to wear.”
“I grabbed my jacket at the last minute,” she said. “June in Nebraska, you aren’t thinking about freezing weather. But that morning I looked online for Mount Hood’s weather, and I realized it got cold here.”
“Yeah, in hindsight, good and bad decisions seem so clear,” he said. “Like how I’m an idiot for not getting us off the mountain earlier this morning.”
“We both wanted to stay. And how could we have known about the volcano? Don’t beat yourself up for it.” Was it only this morning they’d been dawdling at the campsite?
“Let’s try and sleep,” he said.
For a while, they lay on the fragrant pine boughs, holding each other, and Ellen heard Ty’s breathing deepen. She couldn’t drift off, exhausted as she was. Cold and worry won out over her physical weariness. And since Corey had mentioned his family, she couldn’t help but think of hers. Would she ever see her mother again?
It was nice to lie still, with her eyes closed, and rest her body. Her mind was another matter—concern for Corey, for Ty, about the volcano kept it active. She wished she knew the trick of shutting that off.
The full moon must have cleared the eruption, for when she opened her eyes the next time, she could see shadows cast by its light. Must be midnight already, or close to it. That was good. It meant they were half done with the night. Morning would surely bring rescue. Surely.
She was inches from sleep when Corey cried out softly. Ty didn’t stir. Ellen eased out of his arms and went over to Corey. She could see him in the moonlight but couldn’t tell if he was pale or flushed. She could hear him, though, whimpering softly, like a child. She thought her heart would break with the sound. Poor man. She owed him her life, and she couldn’t do anything for him in return.
“Shh,” she said, as if to a child.
He swam up to consciousness. “Hey,” he said.
“You’re doing great,” she lied. “Morning isn’t far off.”
“Distract me.”
“How?”
“Tell me about yourself. Tell me a story. Like I tell my daughter to get her to sleep.”
At least he was able to talk. But his voice was weak, and that scared her.
The sleeping bag had fallen away from his arm. She took the soft fabric and tugged it up. She couldn’t think of a single story. Bad librarian. She should know a thousand by heart. “How about if I sing?”
“That’d be nice.”
Because her family had been on her mind, her great-grandmother came to mind. The woman had played the piano at silent movie houses in her teens and continued playing for fun until she died in her 90’s, mostly old fashioned songs. As a child, Ellen had loved singing along when she visited.
She sang one of those, quietly as to not wake Ty. “Jeanine, I Dream of Lilac Time.”
When she was done, Corey said, “That was nice. Do another.”
She sang “After the Ball,” and when he asked for another, “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” She was surprised the words were still all in her mind, for she hadn’t thought of these old songs since she was a little girl.
Corey drifted back to sleep. She sat with him for ten minutes more, listening to the soft sound of his breathing, thinking, she’d been comforted by the singing at least as much as he had been.
She went back to Ty. She was surprised when he reached for her.
“Sorry I woke you,” she whispered.
“I’m not.”
Her mind was still on her great-grandmother, on loss, and grief. Her G-gran had gotten a good long life, but Corey hadn’t yet. Nor had Ty. She said to him, “Can’t I convince you to go down the mountain now? The moon is up, and you could see your way. I really don’t want you here if something goes wrong with the volcano.”
“Nope.”
“When we first met, I thought, now here’s a nice, tractable man. And now you’re so damned obdurate.”
“Love those big words. Keep ‘em coming.” He lowered his voice to a sexy rumble. “What are you wearing, baby?”
“Volcano crust.” She shook her head. “You know, I really needed a relaxing vacation this year.”
“What, you’re not relaxed yet?”
“Somehow, no, I’m not.” The brief good humor drained too quickly away. “I hate this.”
“It’s not any of our restful days ever, I imagine.”
“No, I hate this, right this moment most of all. Not being in charge. Not being able to do anything but rely on other people and waiting.”
“I’d have guessed that. Taking charge is one of your strengths. But maybe patience isn’t?”
“And understatement seems to be one of your skills.”
He pulled her closer. “I’m so damned proud of you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’re a good person.”
“No. You were right. I’m impatient and have a nasty sense of humor.”
“You’re tough when you ne
ed to be. And tender when you need to be.”
Her face was hot with embarrassment, but she said nothing, just buried her face against his scratchy shoulder. “Don’t forget bossy.” she mumbled.
“Only in the best ways. If we don’t make it out of here,” he said, “for whatever reason, I want you to know….” He said nothing for several seconds.
“Yes?”
“It’s been a great last three days of life. Spending it with you.”
She nodded against his chest. Yes, her too.
She thought about how much better she was at fighting than at waiting. Her life back home had been full of little struggles, and she knew now most of it had been in vain. Why pound your head against a brick wall? The skull will give before the wall does. She recognized the tension in her muscles as one she’d been carrying for a very long time, keeping herself braced, ready for a fight, with administration, parents, even the kids.
But this opponent was too big to fight. Either the volcano would get them, or it wouldn’t. Either rescue would come, or it wouldn’t. The moon would shine out strong in its own time and the sun would rise when it was supposed to. She had done all she could for now. She willed herself to accept that.
Ty’s arms were warm around her back. She took comfort from the sensation and closed her eyes, finally relaxing and drifting into sleep.
29
Norio had been hiking for at least two hours in the moonlight when he finally got through on the radio. Akroyd was lagging several yards behind. At the CVO, Greg was on duty again, excitement punctuating his voice. “Man, are we happy to hear from you. Is Akroyd with you?”
“Yeah. We had a helicopter accident. We have some great shots, though, video of the eruption. And some gas readings from the moments right before the eruption, if we can get to them.”
There was a pause. “Sorry. I had somebody call Akroyd’s wife. She’s been calling here every half hour. You say you’re both fine? Where are you? Over.”