As much as he dreaded it, Clay knew he had to take another look in the cockpit. He had to just tell himself that the pilot was way beyond help and that he was feeling no pain and to try not to look at him. On the floor in front of what would have been the co-pilot’s seat, Clay saw a thermos bottle lying near the foot pedals. He picked it up and shook it. The glass hadn’t broken and it was full of something. He unscrewed the stopper and held the opening to his nose. It was coffee with cream. He took a sip and was surprised to find that it was still hot. He carried the thermos back to Bonnie and offered her some of the coffee.
“That was good,” Bonnie said.
Clay screwed the stopper back on and handed the thermos to Bonnie. “Put this in a safe place,” he said. “When the coffee runs out, I can store the water in there. I’m going back to the cockpit to see what else I can find.”
Back in the cockpit, Clay reached through the needles of the pine branch that had taken the captain’s head off. In the captain’s pants pocket, Clay found a jackknife and a nail clipper but nothing else useful. He decided to check the other passenger’s pockets and bags again. He found a candy bar and a roll of mints in one lady’s purse as well as a ring of keys and a folding compact with a mirror in it. He put all these items in his jacket pocket and continued searching. Overhead in one of the compartments, Clay found eight small pillows and some plastic flatware, forks and spoons mostly. When he’d finished scavenging, Clay parted two of the blankets that hung across the back section and stepped inside. He handed Bonnie the candy bar and the mints.
“Looks like these and that fancy box of chocolates are all we’re going to have to eat for a while,” Clay said, “so let’s try to make them last until I can get out in the woods and see what else we might be able to eat.”
“What could there be to eat in these woods?” Bonnie said.
“There might be a rabbit or two,” Clay explained. “Maybe even a deer. Who knows?”
“So what?” Bonnie said. “Even if there were, how could you catch them?”
Clay reached into his coat and pulled his .38 from its underarm holster and held it out for Bonnie to see.
“How did you get that onto the plane?” Bonnie said.
“It’s been such an integral part of my wardrobe for more than forty years,” Clay said. “I just automatically slip in on when I get dressed. I even forgot I was wearing it when I got to the airport.”
“How did you get it past security?” Bonnie wanted to know.
“Remember?” Clay said. “The regular airline is on strike and these little puddle jumper substitutes never even bothered checking. Hell, it didn’t even dawn on me until we switched planes in Flagstaff that I was wearing it.”
“Well, I’m glad they were a bit lax today,” Bonnie said. “If someone other than the police finds us.” She didn’t have a finish for her sentence. A moment later she said, “What does it look like out there? I could hear some winds whipping up from in here.”
“I think we’re in for a storm,” Clay said. “We obviously can’t have a fire in here so we’d better bundle up until it passes. Then we can build a fire outside.”
“You know,” Bonnie said, “I don’t ever recall seeing anyone hunt for rabbits or deer with a handgun. I think it’s because they’re not accurate over a longer range. So you’d also better be good at sneaking up on those critters otherwise we’re going to be eating pinecones and berries.”
“Ah, a sense of humor, too,” Clay said. “I like that.”
Bonnie had arranged the other six blankets into two piles of three each. The extra clothes from the other passengers’ luggage had been spread out beneath the blankets, forming makeshift beds. Bonnie had already crawled into one of the beds and had Clay’s turned down, ready to be entered.
“I’m going to take one more look out there before we settle in,” Clay said, and exited the plane. The skies overhead were growing dark and full of clouds. The wind had picked up as well and snow was beginning to drift against the plane’s mangled carcass. Clay picked up the makeshift snow melting pot, scooped it full of snow and brought it back inside with him, setting it aside for later use. He slid under the covers, pulled them up to his chin and looked at Bonnie.
“It could be a while before the storm passes,” he said. “It’s bound to get pretty cold even in here. You might want to wrap your head with some of those clothes. You can lose a lot of body heat through you head, you know.”
Bonnie grabbed a fleece jacket that she’d taken off one of the dead passengers and draped it over her head. She pulled the covers back up to her chin and settled in. “What about your head?” she said to Clay.
Clay pulled a lined denim shirt out from his pile and draped it over his head, tying the arms under his chin. He pulled his covers up as far as they would go and lay back on four of the eight pillows Bonnie had found.
*****
I looked at the clock again and compared it to my watch. Dad had had plenty of time to talk to Harry and still call in. I picked up my desk phone and looked at Gloria. “Do you have Dad’s cell number?” I said.
Gloria pulled her cell phone out of her purse, flipped it open and found the contacts page. She read me the number and closed her phone again.
I dialed Dad’s number but it didn’t ring. Instead I got a recorded message that the party that I was trying to call was out of cell range and advised me to try again later. I hung up the phone. “I got a message about Dad being out of cell range,” I told Gloria. “I’m sure Denver has enough cell towers to accommodate everyone within range,” I said. “Unless Dad is not in Denver.”
“Where else would he be?” Gloria said. “According to him Harry, or Fred if you prefer, lives right in the city. You should be able to get through to him. Maybe you dialed the number wrong. Try it again and use your cell this time.”
I pulled my cell phone out of the leather case that hung on my belt, opened it and hit the speed dial button for Dad’s number. I got the same recording with the same message. I closed my phone and turned to Gloria. “Same results,” I said. “Something’s not right, I can feel it.”
“Why don’t you call the Denver airport and see what time Dad’s flight got in?” Gloria said. “That should at least put your mind to rest.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at Gloria. “Good idea,” I said and dialed the information operator. I got the number for the Denver International Airport and asked for the information desk. They put me on hold for a few seconds before a woman answered.
“Information,” the female voice said. “How may I help you?”
“Yes,” I said, “can you tell me what time the flight from Flagstaff got in today?”
“One moment please,” she said and put me on hold. A few seconds later she came back on the line and said, “I’m sorry but that flight is not in yet?”
“What do you mean, it’s not in yet?” I said. “It was due in almost two hours ago. What happened?”
“I don’t know, sir,” she said. “The FAA has been notified and they’re checking into the flight plan that was filed in Flagstaff. We’re still waiting to hear something.”
“Well, how long before you know anything?” I said.
“It’s hard to say,” the woman answered. “It could take a while.”
“Can I leave my number with you?” I said. “Could you call me when you hear anything?”
“Go ahead,” the woman said. “Give me that number.”
I gave her my office number as well as my cell number and told her to try the cell if I didn’t answer from the office. She assured me that she would and hung up. I turned to Gloria, who was now staring at me with a question on her face.
“You heard?” I said.
Gloria nodded. “What do they think happened?” she said.
“Nobody knows at this point,” I said. “But two hours is a long time to be overdue. It’s beginning to look like the plane may have landed somewhere else besides Denver.”
“You don’t
mean landed, do you?” Gloria said, and then came over to where I sat and put her arm around my shoulder.
I leaned into Gloria and sighed. “I hope he’s all right,” I said.
*****
The storm outside was blowing harder with every passing minute. The plane’s body rocked and shook whenever a gust of wind caught it. Bonnie and Clay huddled closer to each other, trying hard to stay warm and calm. Clay gestured with his chin at the thermos bottle.
“I could use some coffee,” he told Bonnie.
Bonnie pulled her arm out from under the covers and grabbed the thermos, unscrewing the cup that served as the bottle top. She unscrewed the stopper and poured half a cup before capping the bottle again. She handed Clay the cup and he took a sip, passing it to her now. She sipped and they passed it back and forth until the cup was empty. Bonnie screwed the cup back onto the bottle and laid it aside. They huddled under the covers again, their bodies shaking and quivering from the cold.
Clay didn’t remember the exact moment it happened, but soon he and Bonnie both had fallen asleep. By the time Clay awoke, the howling wind outside had ceased. He sat with his ear cocked and listened. It was quiet. He shook Bonnie and her eyes fluttered open. She sat up, also aware of the silence outside.
“Looks like it passed,” she said, peeling her blankets aside and crawling out from under.
Clay also pulled his blankets aside and stood, extending his hand to Bonnie, who took it and stood next to him. Clay held her hand and guided her toward the two hanging blankets that had formed one wall. In the other part of the plane, snow had blown in, almost covering the six dead passengers in a blanket of white. Clay couldn’t see outside. The two openings that had been created when the wing was torn off were both drifted shut.
Bonnie gripped Clay’s arm tighter and leaned into him. “Will we be able to get out of here?” she said, a bit of panic in her voice now.
“Sure,” Clay assured her. “In fact, this is probably better for us in the long run. Now we can just dig a smaller hole to come and go from here and it’ll keep the wind out better than before, almost like the opening of an igloo.”
“How long will it take to dig through to the outside?” Bonnie said. “I’m feeling a little claustrophobic.”
“Well,” Clay said, “I’ll need something to dig with.”
Bonnie stepped behind the blankets again and returned with the makeshift pot Clay had pounded into a round vessel. She handed it to him. “This should work,” she said.
Clay scooped snow out of one area and tossed it over the other occupied seats, burying the occupants even more. Within fifteen minutes he’d broken a small hole to the outside and sunlight was streaming in through it. After a couple more scoops, he was able to stick his head out through the hole and look at his surroundings. He pulled his head back inside and looked at Bonnie.
“See,” he said, smiling, “what did I tell you. There’s just three feet of snow covering the opening.”
“That’s good,” Bonnie said, “because I really have to go.”
“Go?” Clay said. “Go where?” As soon as the words left his mouth he felt stupid. “Oh, yeah. Go ahead, I’ll wait here.”
Clay used this time to widen the hole on the inside, leaving the outside diameter the same. It would be easier to come and go if they could ease back in down a small slope of snow. When Bonnie returned a few minutes later, Clay slipped outside and relieved himself as well, kicking snow over the small yellow hole he’d made in the snow. He looked at his surroundings, trying to find something that would burn. The ground had been blanketed with at least a foot of new snow, covering whatever dead branches might have been there for the taking.
Clay thought about burning green branches but wondered if they might be too green and too wet to ignite. Off in the distance, perhaps thirty yards to the northeast, Clay saw one pine tree that was almost totally brown with dead branches. The entire tree looked like it had been infested with some sort of parasite that had killed it. Now those branches would burn, he thought.
He crawled back through the hole and found Bonnie chewing on something. The fancy chocolate box lay open next to her and he reached down and found a fat, square piece for himself. It wasn’t exactly bacon and eggs, but it would do for now. Before he replaced the cover, he held the box out to Bonnie. “Want another one?” he said.
Bonnie patted her stomach. “Thanks,” she said, “but I have to watch my girlish figure.”
Clay and Bonnie exchanged glances and then broke out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “One’s my limit, too,” Clay said before replacing the cover on the box and setting it aside. “I saw a dead pine tree about thirty yards away,” Clay told her. “I think if I can get some branches off of it, that I could make us a fire. We need to melt some more snow and the coffee won’t last much longer anyway. Did you notice if any of these passengers had packed any gloves in their luggage?”
“I didn’t see any,” Bonnie said, “but then I wasn’t looking for any the first time around. There might be some. Do you want me to check?”
“It would take some digging,” Clay said. “The bags are all covered with snow now. It might be a good idea to gather all the bags back behind the blankets with us. There may be a lot more useful items in them. Come on, I’ll help you.”
The two of them dug through the snow-covered floor, looking for luggage. After a few minutes of digging, Bonnie stopped and looked at Clay. “What if we dug a ventilation hole on the other side of the plane where the left wing used to be? Then we could start a small fire in here and melt away a lot of this snow. It could be just what we need to heat this place up a little.”
“You might have something there, Bonnie,” Clay said, feeling around on the left side of the plane for the soft spot of the opening. He managed to make a small hole a little larger than the diameter of his fist that led to the outside. He turned to Bonnie. “I’ll see if I can’t break a few of those dead branches off that brown tree and drag them back here. Sit tight until I get back.”
Clay slowly stomped through the foot-high snow toward the dead pine tree. There was just one three-foot square spot on the tree that had any green on it at all. The rest of the tree was brown. As Clay grabbed one of the overhanging branches and shook it, brown needles fell to the ground, blanketing the snow like a smattering of sesame seeds. He pulled down on the branch itself and it snapped off in his hand. The rest of the brown branches around the perimeter of the tree did the same thing when he pulled on them. Clay was able to walk back to the plane dragging more than half a dozen three to four foot branches. He piled them up outside the plane and began breaking the branches into manageable campfire-size pieces.
Clay started stacking the smaller pieces in a tic-tac-toe pattern about six inches tall on the floor of the plane where Bonnie had managed to move most of the snow further forward. Clay crumpled up another double page from the newspaper and lit it with the disposable lighter. Soon the branches caught fire and the crackling sound was music to his ears. The fist-size hole he’d dug into the left side of the plane drew the flames toward it like a vacuum. The interior of the plane was beginning to warm up and the surrounding snow was melting.
The six dead passengers under that snow began to show again and Clay started to think about taking the bodies outside and burying them in the snow drifts. He turned to Bonnie. “You know,” Clay said, “seeing the bodies again made me think that we’d better move them outside or this whole plane carcass will start to stink.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I can touch them,” Bonnie said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Clay told her. “I can get them out of here and maybe we can use that space for something else. It also got me thinking about the passenger with the leather bag full of cocaine. I really have to get his body far away from the plane and cover it with snow in case his buddies come looking for him and his bag. We can always claim that there were only seven passengers. We’ll have to bury that bag, too.”
“You really think some of his friends will come all the way out here looking for him?” Bonnie said. “I mean, can that junk be worth all that much for them to make the trip in this weather?”
“Well,” Clay said, “I counted thirty keys of coke in that bag and at twenty to thirty-five grand a key, we’re looking at anywhere from six hundred thousand to just over a million dollars in street value. Yeah, I’d say that would make it worth the trip. As soon as these guys realize that the plane never made it to Denver they’ll come looking for it. And if these guys have that kind of money at their disposal, they either own a helicopter or can get one on short notice. I want to be ready for anything.”
“You’re scaring me, Clay,” Bonnie said.
“I’m scaring myself,” Clay said, slapping himself in the chest with his hand for emphasis. His hand hit on something hard and suddenly he realized that he was carrying his cell phone in his shirt pocket. He pulled it out and stared at it. “I suppose it would be hoping for too much to expect this thing to work out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Bonnie dashed back behind the blankets and found her purse. She returned with her cell phone as well. She had her fingers crossed as she flipped it open and looked at the display. “Damn,” she said when she saw the message on the screen that said, ‘no service.’
Clay flipped his open and got the same message. He closed his phone and dropped it back into his pocket. “I didn’t think we’d be that lucky,” he said. “We’re probably sitting down in some pocket of the mountains. But you know, I just thought of something. What about the plane’s transponder? If that survived the crash it should still be sending out a signal. I have to get up front and see if I can find it, but first we have to keep this fire going and melt this snow out of the way so I can move all these bodies outside.”
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 253