by Nancy Adams
A crewman hanging out beside me pointed over to our right, and I looked. At first I didn't see that he was pointing at, but then it dawned on me that I was seeing trees that had been severely damaged.
“That's it,” his voice said in my headphones. “That's the crash trail. We're at the right place. Whoever the psychic is needs a reward, I'd say.”
Minutes passed as I listened to the chatter in the headphones. The pilot couldn't put down, and there was too much foliage to even lower someone to check it out. We'd have to look around and find somewhere to land, so we flew off slowly to the west. A few minutes later, we began to descend, and set down in a large clearing about a mile and a half from the site of the wreck.
A couple of people were designated to stay with the chopper, but the rest of us climbed out and began walking. The brush was dense enough that it took us more than an hour to get to the jet, and when I saw it, my heart sank.
The plane was torn into pieces, it looked like. There was a gaping hole in one side, and it had come to rest upside down. One of the rangers and a medic got to it first, and they called out, “We have fatalities,” and I fell to my knees.
The ranger helped me get back up, and held onto me. I tried to make out what he was saying, but my head was ringing and I couldn't understand him at first.
“Only the pilot and co-pilot are here. Your daughter and her fiance left the wreckage, they left a message on the plane that they went east. They're alive, Mr. Burke, they're alive!”
I stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. “But—they said fatalities...”
“The flight crew were both killed in the crash, but your daughter and her fiance survived. They left the plane, probably because they couldn't get the bodies out. The bodies have been partially eaten, so it would have been dangerous to remain here. But come look at the plane, there's a message.”
I let him lead me closer, and suddenly the odor of death and decay assailed me. I steeled myself and went on, and as he had said, Nate had scratched a message into the skin of the jet:
“NS and KB alive. Moving east in search of help or town.”
I collapsed again, this time from relief. I heard one of the rangers calling back to Denver on the radio, and then a man came to me and held out a cell phone. “Sir, the Colonel told me to give you this when we got here. It's a satellite phone, you can call anyone you need to with it.”
I knew what a satellite phone was, and snatched it out of his hand instantly. I dialed Rebecca's number and she answered on the first ring.
“Hello?” she said, and I could hear the dread in her voice.
“They're alive, Bec!” I shouted into the phone. “They're both alive. The pilot and co-pilot were killed, but Katelynn and Nate are alive, they're walking out and we're going to go find them!”
“Oh, thank You, Jesus!” she said, and began to cry with her own relief. I talked to her for another moment, and then told her I'd call back when we found them.
I dialed Norman. Like my wife, he answered as the first ring was still sounding in my ear.
“Norman, it's Jim. The pilot and co-pilot died in the crash, but our kids are alive! Nate left a note on the plane that they went east to look for help, so we're going to search for them.”
The sound of a rich and powerful man sobbing is one I'll never forget, but the joy in his voice as he shared the news with Nate's mother was enough to displace it for a time. She snatched the phone from him and thanked me for calling.
I ended the call, and the airman took the phone back, promising to let me have it any time I needed it. He explained that they were going to get the bodies out, but that he, a medic, one of the rangers and the dog handler were going to try to track Katelynn and Nate. I chose to go with them, of course; I'd already been outfitted with a canteen and a pistol for emergencies, a courtesy for my former Marine service.
We found the kids' bags in the wreckage, and the dog got a good sniff of Katelynn's clothing, using the logic that Nate would keep her close to him. If for some reason they'd become separated, we wanted to find Katelynn first—chivalry isn't entirely dead—and then look for the young ex-Marine, who could supposedly take care of himself more easily than my daughter could. It was a cold logic, but one that made sense. When the dog had the scent, we gave him his head and followed as he moved into brush that had recently been disturbed.
We made our way through the thick forest, and the going was slow. Occasionally the dog seemed to get stuck on a spot for a moment, but then went on. We moved forward for about a half hour, and then the dog took off down a trail that animals use, so the going got easier and faster.
It was about an hour later that we came to a clearing beside a stream, and smack in the middle of it stood a shelter made of pine branches. One of the Rangers looked inside, and said that it didn't look like they'd been in it in the last day or so. The dog was pulling down to the water's edge, so we let him lead and followed.
Then it got a bit slower, because they had apparently moved through the water itself at times. The airman told me that they were probably following the stream because it should eventually lead to a bridge or a town, which made sense, but it also meant they had to hug the bank, or even wade at times. The only problem with that was that it cost the dog their trail, at times, and he had to cast around until he picked it up again.
That slowed us a bit, but not terribly. I was surprised that I wasn't having more trouble keeping up, and I was sure it was mostly because of the boots. There's something about having the right footgear for walking through field, water and mud that takes a lot of the effort out of it, I guess. Whatever the reason, I was glad I wasn't slowing the search down.
We walked for several hours, letting the dog lead even though it meant having to watch him cast around at times. We were making progress, and that was the critical thing for me; my baby girl and Nate were out here somewhere, and even though we were in a group and well armed, the ranger made sure we all knew that there were legitimate dangers out there that we had to watch out for.
One of those almost got me. I was following the man in front of me, but he lost his balance and fell into the water. I stepped onto a rock a little higher to try to anchor myself and lend him a hand, and the most frightening sound I've ever heard hit my ears a split second before something else hit the leather around my left ankle. A rattlesnake had been sunning itself on the rock, and ignoring us when we didn't get close, but I put my foot down right beside it. That was too close, so it rattled at me and then struck, and only the tough leather of the borrowed combat boots saved me from being bitten. I yelled and jumped, landing in the water right beside the other man, and the snake slithered away a moment later.
“That was odd behavior for a rattler,” said the ranger. “Normally, they'll warn us long before we get that close. That fellow must be old, or sick.” He insisted on having me take off my boot so he and our medic could be sure the fangs had not penetrated my skin. I was relieved to see that they hadn’t, and I was safe.
We continued on, and made another couple of hours before darkness began to fall. The ranger said there wasn't much hope of the chopper reaching us, so we were going to make camp in the next clearing we found. That took another hour, and by then we were using flashlights to see where to put our feet, but we were certainly ready by the time we found a place to camp. The dog was acting sort of oddly, as if he'd lost the trail again, but we figured he'd pick it up in the morning. We hadn't really planned to say out overnight, but I'd roughed it before.
I got the sat phone from the airman and called Rebecca, then Norman. Both were relieved that I didn't have any bad news to report. We hadn't found any sign that either of the kids had been injured seriously, so that was a blessing.
About that time, we heard the helicopter take off, and the ranger said it had probably taken them all day to get the remains out of the wreckage, since they didn't have all the right equipment, I felt sorry for the families of those two men, but I was sure they'd don
e all they could to get their passengers down as safely as possible. I prayed that they knew they'd succeeded.
Nathanael
Chapter Eleven
The Bear Necessities
* * * * *
I tried to feint and make the bear go one way while I went the other, but he just stood his ground and watched. Katelynn was still out of his line of sight, and I was glad, but if I didn't think of something soon, my own luck would run out, and then he would probably notice her. I couldn't let that happen!
I burst from my cover behind the tree and ran, and the monster was after me in a heartbeat. A full grown grizzly can run at more than forty miles an hour, but I can't hope to go over about fifteen, so I didn't want him to get much gain on me. I dodged right, behind a tree, and his bulk made it hard for him to turn as quickly as I could. He actually skidded a few feet, and then came after me again.
My tactics had given me a slight lead on the bear, but it wouldn't last long. If I could get up a tree, I had a chance, since grizzlies don't climb like black bears do. I was looking for one I could monkey up in a hurry when I felt something hit my side and send me flying.
I landed on my back, and suddenly the grizzly was on its hind legs, looking over me. The killing blow would come as it dropped all of its weight onto me, and I knew I was finished. The bear roared his dominance over this puny human, and then he roared again and spun away from me.
Katelynn had fired the flare gun straight at the bear, but it didn't have the power to actually penetrate his flesh like a bullet would. Instead, it lodged in the thick, matted fur on his back; he was screaming in agony as it burned and looking with rage at the source of his torment: Katelynn!
The bear started toward her even as it was trying to swipe at the smoldering, burned-out flare on its back. The rocks she was on wouldn't slow him for even a second, I knew, and before I even realized what I was doing, I had rolled to my feet and shouted at the bear.
“Hey! Here I am, you big bastard, come get me!”
He was in pain and rage, and somehow he knew that Katelynn had been the one to cause his agony. He ignored me the way a man might ignore a fly, but that man will pay attention when the fly bites! I made about eight running strides, pushed off of a big boulder and leapt onto the bear's back.
Somewhere along the way I'd drawn my knife and I drove it down into the bear's right shoulder with all the strength I had in me. Once again he roared, and his great front paws began trying to reach me, but a bear isn't able to reach its own back. I held on with my left hand and tried not to get my legs in reach of his claws, but he was slinging me around like I was nothing but an itchy bug. I struggled to get the knife out of his shoulder, because it had lodged into the shoulder joint, but after a second or two it came free and I raised it and struck again and again. My ride for life lasted about the eight seconds a cowboy tries for in a rodeo, and then I was flung off once more.
I hit the ground rolling, and made myself keep it up for a few rolls, using the chance to see where the bear was and what it was doing. I now had a wounded grizzly on my hands, and my chances of survival were getting smaller and smaller.
“Katelynn!” I screamed, “get away! Run!”
My heart was pounding with adrenaline, but a sense of calm came over me as I got to my feet once again. The bear wasn't paying any attention to Katelynn, and was trying to get its right foreleg to work, but I must have cut a tendon. Blood was pouring from the wounds, so I hoped I had also gotten an artery, but I didn't think my knife was long enough for that. It was thrashing around, and suddenly it spotted me again.
It instinctively dropped to all fours, but its right foreleg crumpled, and the beast went down onto its face and belly. I leapt onto its back again, and went for the other shoulder, driving the knife in again and again, until it somehow threw itself backward and almost to a sitting position. I was thrown off and landed on my butt, just behind the enraged bear.
The creature had gone from roaring in rage to suddenly screaming in agony and terror, and a part of me felt sorry for it. The problem now was that I could not leave it in this condition; a wounded bear would be a horrific danger to any human that stumbled across it, and there was always the chance it would survive these wounds. Having been hurt so badly by man, I had no doubt it would become a killer every chance it got, seeking its revenge on me. The beast had gone from terrifying to almost pitiable, but I had no choice but to finish it off and put it out of its misery.
I looked around and saw that Katelynn had moved away, but not as far as I'd wanted her to. Now, though, the bear was not moving around as much, and probably couldn't move fast enough to catch either of us. I motioned for her to stay put, and went back to where I'd been when the bear first attacked me.
It took me a few moments, but I found the pistol I had lost. I checked its action and it seemed to be working fine, so I took it and approached the bear. Neither of its front legs would work properly, and it couldn't get up on its hind legs without them. The animal saw me and roared, but not so much in rage or threat as, I think, in a demand for me to stop hurting it.
“I'm sorry we met,” I said to the grizzly. “I'm sorry you had to learn that there is a creature on earth even more cruel and dangerous than you. I didn’t want to hurt you, didn't want to be the cause of your pain or your death, but you left me no choice. I hope you'll forgive me, in whatever way you can.”
The bear stopped roaring and looked at me. I know it could not have understood the words I was saying, but I think it sensed from my calmness that I was about to make its suffering end. I raised the 45, aimed directly into its left eye and pulled the trigger.
The bear's head flew backward, and then it began to thrash around again. It wasn’t roaring, but a strange mewling sound came from its throat, a sound I'd never imagined such a beast could make. I didn't know if it was dying or not, and so I fired three more times, standing as close as I could so that my rounds would have the best chance of penetrating the thick skull.
It thrashed a few more times, and then fell to its face. There were a few moments of trembling, and the big beast finally lay still.
I went to it and pushed at its face with my foot, but there was no longer any life in the bear. I looked around for Katelynn, and found her not ten feet away, slowly approaching. I smiled at her.
“It's okay, Baby,” I said, “he's dead.”
Katelynn stopped in her tracks and looked at me for a moment, then she began to sob so loudly that I was terrified she'd been hurt, somehow. I stood up and she rushed into my arms, threw her own around my neck and began crying harder, weeping with deep, soul wracking sobs that would probably have carried for miles if we hadn't been in the thick of the forest. I held her, not knowing what else to do, and kept reassuring her that everything was all right.
She wept for several minutes, and then let me sit her down on a nearby rock.
“Baby, it's okay now,” I said, and she started to cry again, but not as hard.
“Nate, you were nearly killed,” she said, “and you're bleeding, your side...”
I hadn't even noticed that I was bleeding, but when the bear had knocked me down, it apparently swiped me off my feet with its claws. Those claws were up to four inches long, and when I looked down, I saw that it looked like I'd had a fight with Freddy Krueger. Katelynn got up and ran for the backpack, coming back with the first aid kit that was inside it. I helped her strip off my torn shirt, and then she began cleaning the wounds and treating them, finishing off with gauze pads and taping me up like I'd been in a car wreck, rather than a bear fight.
When she was done, I pointed at the bear. “I can't get rid of that, so we'll take enough for us to eat for tonight and tomorrow. I think we'll be found by tomorrow evening, but we can't stay here tonight, after all. Predators and scavengers will be here soon, after all of that excess meat.”
I got painfully to my feet, my side aching as I did so, now that I knew it was injured. I drew my knife again and bent down to start cuttin
g sections of meat from the bear's hind leg while Katelynn washed out my torn shirt the best she could so we could wrap the meat in it to carry along.
I cut off about five pounds of meat, but I had to cut through ten pounds of fat to get to it. We'd cook it all that night, and have plenty left over to get us through the next day, as well, and as I'd told her, I had high hopes that this would be our last night in the wild.
We wrapped the meat up in my shirt and put it in the backpack, then I put it back on and we started off again. I hated leaving this good a spot, but with the bear's remains there, it wasn't likely we'd be able to avoid more problems with predators, and I'd had all of that I could stand!
This time, since we had a good idea that the helicopter crew was probably looking for us, I decided to go against my earlier logic and head back the way we'd come. There was a clearing about two hours back that would be good enough to camp in, and it would take us toward those who must be searching.
We made good time, partly because the terrain was somewhat more familiar, and I thought we were getting close to the clearing I wanted when we heard the helicopter heading back toward Denver. I was frustrated that I couldn't get a flare off, but I still felt we were likely to be found the next day, anyway. We kept walking and got to the clearing about a half hour later, just as the sun started down. Katelynn immediately began setting up a fire, and I got to work on a shelter.
I looked around and decided to make a simpler shelter, so I began cutting some long, thin poles and bent them into curves, tying them together with twine so that I ended up with a circle about ten feet in diameter. Then I cut more of them and tied one end of each to a point on the circle, and the other end to another pole that was anchored to the other side of the base circle. This gave us a dome that stood about four feet high in the center, and we began adding shorter sticks to that so that it formed a framework that we then began covering with smaller brush. After that, we piled it high with thousands of the leaves that were laying all over the ground. When it was done, in less than an hour, we had an igloo-shaped shelter that would keep us warm and cozy, even if the clouds I was seeing in the darkening sky were to decide to dump a monsoon on us.