by Alton Gansky
Perry put an arm around her and gave a gentle squeeze. “We didn’t stay, and we are safe.” He lowered his arm and continued to watch the cataclysmic event before him. The surface of the water, now lower than its previous base, rolled and churned, trying to find its own level.
“Carl, are there any structures downstream? Towns, homes, ranches, anything?”
“No,” Carl said. “The valley intersects other valleys until they meet the desert floor. Why?”
“I’m worried about the dam giving way.”
“It doesn’t have any water behind it,” he said. “How can it fail now?”
“Think lower,” Jack said.
“You think the water could undermine the dam?”
“Let’s pray that it doesn’t. I’m also concerned that a dam that has been holding millions of gallons of water for over thirty years might crack or even fall back in on itself.”
“What can we do?”
“At the moment, nothing.”
The wave action that had drenched the shore a hundred feet up the grade settled, fed by a thousand new little trickling rivers. But the water was not calm. The cavern below had become a deep basin, holding water that boiled with chemical ferocity. Gas percolated to the surface, boiling off into the clean mountain air, fouling it with a stench Perry had become familiar with and wished he could forget.
“You know,” Gleason said, “Dean had other men when we first met him. There were four. He had one with him and Finn.”
“I thought of that,” Perry said. He looked along what used to be the shoreline. “I hope they weren’t too close to the water.”
“You’re worried about men who threatened your life?” Carl asked. “They didn’t do you any favors.”
“Human life is human life,” Perry said. “Let’s go.”
Perry Sachs led his weary companions along the slope toward the path that would take them to their cars. His mind ached with the emotion, experiences, and thoughts that strained at the fibers of his resolve. He had come here hoping to find a clue that would save his father’s life and in the process saw the death of Zeisler, one of Finn’s men, and maybe Dean and Finn.
Submerged below the agitated waters was a mystery beyond imagination, and instead of answers, he harbored suspicions of what might have been. Those suspicions would have to wait. One thought was more demanding than all the others. It was something Zeisler said, something he offered moments before he died.
Perry had to get to the satellite phone.
Anna Sachs had moved her chair as close to Henry’s bed as possible. She gazed through the dim light and her own flooded eyes at the man who had been her companion, lover, and supporter for over forty years. He had fathered her only child. He had been their anchor of faith.
Now he was a shell, almost empty of the immeasurable quality of life. Every few moments, he moaned, but he never moved. His white eyes stared through the slits his eyelids formed. He gulped for air.
What would she do without him? How could she slip into a bed that would no longer hold him? When the Seattle nights turned cold, who would cuddle with her? No one. No one could replace the man who was more her essence than her husband. In a world where half of all marriages end in divorce, she had never wanted another man or another life. Henry had been the steel in her spine and the warmth of her heart.
“Not long now,” the doctor had said. “Maybe a few hours. You should call your family together.”
Her family was somewhere in Nevada, hundreds of miles removed, doing the desperate. How she wished Perry were here to stand by her as she said good-bye to the man who was never far from her thoughts. Perry would know what to do. He would have the right words and offer the right thoughts.
The hospital chaplain had come by and prayed. Anna appreciated it, but having a stranger pray for them brought no comfort.
Visions of vacations, of parties, of long winter evenings before a roaring fire, warming their feet while drinking hot chocolate, flickered in her mind. Hopelessness was a heavy emotion that taxed the spirit. She glanced at the clock on the far wall. The second hand moved along its course, as if sweeping away the last moments of Henry’s life.
She tried to steel herself for it. A person of faith, she knew his next home, but the inferno of sadness burned all the hotter. Heaven would be Henry’s gain, but Anna would still lose the man she had loved.
What would she do when the last exhalation signaled the departure of his soul? How would she respond? She wanted to show the dignity that Henry said she possessed, but she doubted she could. The dam of strength, determination, and resolve was crumbling.
Tears rose like the tide. Her heart fluttered, as if tired of living. She lowered her head. “I don’t get it,” she prayed. “I don’t understand.” It was a simple prayer, an honest confession. The words were not bitter or resentful. They were just the only words she could utter.
The cell phone rang, and Anna jumped. She didn’t want to answer. Its rude signal sounded again. Technology had invaded her privacy. Nothing was sacred anymore. Once again its tone filled the twilight of the room.
Anna reached for it. “Hello?”
“Mom. It’s Perry.”
“Oh, Perry, they say he has a few hours to live, maybe less.”
“But he’s still alive?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
“In Nevada, but I’m coming home. Listen carefully. I need to talk to Dr. Nishizaki right away.”
“I don’t know where he is. He was in earlier.”
“How much earlier?”
Anna thought. “A couple of hours ago. What’s wrong?”
“I’ll explain later,” Perry said. “Right now, you must find Dr. Nishizaki.”
Anna stood and walked from the room, the cell phone pressed to her ear. “Nurse.”
“Mrs. Sachs, you shouldn’t have that cell phone in here. It interferes with patient telemetry.”
“I’m sorry, but this is an emergency. I need to see Dr. Nishizaki.”
“Has Mr. Sachs . . . passed?” The nurse, a woman in her fifties, rose from her seat.
“No. Please call Dr. Nishizaki. My son is on the phone and needs to speak with him immediately.”
The nurse frowned. “I know this is a difficult time, Mrs. Sachs, but . . .”
Anna’s patience snapped. “Listen, you call the doctor right now, or I’m going to start opening every door in this hospital until I find him.”
The nurse didn’t appear intimidated, but she placed the call anyway.
Five minutes later, Dr. Nishizaki appeared in the corridor. “What’s the problem, Mrs. Sachs?”
She didn’t answer but thrust the phone at the doctor.
“This is Dr. Nishizaki. To whom am I speaking?”
Anna couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but whatever Perry was saying drained the blood from the doctor’s face.
Chapter33
Perry shifted his gaze from the satellite phone in his hand to the speeding sheriff’s SUV in front of them. The light bar on the patrol vehicle cast red and blue light into the air. Jack kept the Hummer’s accelerator pressed enough to keep up with Carl and Janet.
“Is he . . .” Jack began.
“He’s still alive, but Mom said he has only a few hours at most,” Perry replied. “It might be as little as a few minutes. No one can predict.”
“And the doctor?” Gleason asked from the backseat.
“He sounded dubious, but I think I convinced him. He said he’d have to call in some favors and break some rules.”
“Do you think he will?” Gleason asked.
“I pray that he will.”
Jack steered the big vehicle from the back-road path to the paved highway. Janet was behind the wheel of the SUV, and she was wasting no time. Jack pressed the gas pedal, and the big V8 came to life with a roar.
“I should be there,” Perry said.
“You will be,” Jack announced. “Gleason, we should have cell phone coverage now
. If we do, I want you to make a call. If not, we’ll use the satellite phone.”
Perry heard Gleason moving things around in the backseat. A minute later he said, “I got a signal. What’s on your mind?”
“See if there’s a public airport near town. I want to charter a plane for Perry.”
Minutes ticked by. Gleason worked the phone. Jack pushed the Hummer faster and faster. Perry sat in the dark stew of his emotions. Every second that ticked by was a second that Perry’s father could die. He might be dead already.
The drive down the mountain was made at breakneck speed, but the time passed with a painful slowness. Gleason had succeeded in making connections with the airport. “There’s a small charter service that runs out of the Tonopah airport. A Piper PA30 Twin Comanche is waiting for you, Perry. I told them this was an emergency and that they should be fueled and ready to go when we arrive. He was a little suspicious, so we may have to prove that we don’t have anything up our sleeves. It’s not the fastest commercial aircraft, but it was the best I could get on short notice.”
“It will do,” Perry said. “Thanks.”
“While you’re in flight,” Jack said, “I’ll make arrangements for someone to pick you up at the airport and drive you the hospital. Sachs Engineering has a few hundred employees who would volunteer.”
Jack paused. “Gleason and I will get back just as soon as we can. You’ll keep us posted, won’t you?” Perry said he would. “We’ll keep praying.”
“Do that, guys. I think it’s prayer that has kept Dad alive.”
And then Perry put action to his belief. He leaned his head back and prayed.
Carl and Janet led Perry and the others to the airport. Jack had flashed the Hummer’s lights until he had their attention and pulled to the side of the road. Gleason bolted from the backseat and ran to the sheriff’s vehicle to tell Carl and Janet what they were planning. When he got back, Gleason said, “They’re going to escort us.”
“He’s a gutsy little guy,” Jack said.
“He’s only little on the outside,” Perry said. “He has heart.”
Five minutes out, Gleason called the charter service again and gave them an ETA. Jack pulled straight to a low-slung plane with two engines idling, their propellers spinning. Ten feet away from the aircraft stood a man in a white shirt and jeans and a man in a blue uniform.
“Security,” Jack said.
“Can’t blame them,” Perry said. “We live in horrible times.” The three exited the Hummer. Carl and Janet exited their vehicle, leaving the light bar flashing in the fading day. They jogged ahead of Perry and the others.
Carl removed a leather case from his back pocket and flashed his badge. “I’m Deputy Carl Subick; this is Deputy Janet Novak.”
The security guard looked nervous and unconvinced. Five people had just pressed in upon him. He took a step back. “What happened to your uniform?” He looked them over.
Perry did, too. Carl was in jeans and hiking boots, and his clothing was stained with sweat. Janet was missing her uniform shirt and her body armor, leaving her with uniform pants and a T-shirt. Even her Sam Browne belt had been left behind.
“It’s been a long day,” Janet said.
“I thought maybe you had been working undercover.”
Carl laughed. “That’s a good way to put it.”
The man in the white shirt spoke. “I’m Bob Cartwright, owner and pilot. I was told there would be one passenger.” He was a thick man with thinning hair.
“I’m the passenger,” Perry said. He introduced himself. “I’m trying to get to Seattle.”
Cartwright studied him. “I need to search your luggage.”
“No luggage. Feel free to search me.”
Cartwright did. “Your credit card cleared, so I guess we’re good to go.”
“I appreciate this. I know it’s a little out of the ordinary.”
“It’s more than a little weird.”
Perry turned to his friends. Jack gave him a bear hug. “Tell your mom we love her. We’ll be there in a couple of days.”
The good-byes were short. Five minutes later, Perry was airborne.
The Piper twin engine had seating for four passengers. Perry sat alone in the back while a single pilot, Bob Cartwright, manned the cockpit. He seemed uncertain about the sudden need of the flight, the number of people who showed up at the airport, and Perry’s appearance.
“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Cartwright began, “you look a little rugged.”
“I feel a little worn-out,” Perry said. “I appreciate you doing this. It’s a great kindness.”
“The man on the phone, Gleason something, said it was your father who was ill.”
“Gleason Lane,” Perry said. “My father is dying. I’m trying to get home to see him.”
“I lost my father five years ago. We were never close, but I miss him from time to time. You and your pops get along?”
“We’re very close. Always have been.”
“That’s good. Real good,” the pilot said.
Perry leaned back and closed his eyes. Sleep would be welcome.
“Hey,” Cartwright said. “You ever seen a helicopter from the topside? Look out the left window. Those are MH-60 Pave Hawks. They look like they’re in a hurry.”
Perry glanced out the side window and saw four dark green helicopters flying in formation. He knew where they were headed, and he was glad he wasn’t there to greet them.
“They use those babies for special operations and crew recovery. They must be training or something.”
“Or something,” Perry agreed. “Or something.”
Again Perry closed his eyes and wished for sleep.
Anna was alone. She stood in the MICU room where her husband had been for the last few days. Doctors, led by Dr. Yukio Nishizaki, had entered and discussed what Nishizaki wanted to do. Anna couldn’t keep the doctors straight or understand the terms they used. She was, however, able to glean the gist of it. Nishizaki was alone in his opinion that chemotherapy might save Henry’s life. The other doctors tried to remain professional and detached, but Anna could see the anger in their eyes.
“It’s contraindicated,” one doctor said.
“There is no precedent for such an approach,” a woman physician opined.
“He’s much too weak for such a forceful treatment.”
Nishizaki would not be put off. He argued passionately for the treatment. Such procedures were not in his specialty, and he needed help from other doctors and approval from a committee. Henry hated committees. “Committees are the fastest way to get nothing done,” he used to say. Anna was beginning to understand the sentiment.
The argument ended in a stalemate. The doctors all said they were sorry and started to leave.
“Wait,” Anna said. They stopped. “I know . . . I know that death is something we all experience. If Henry were to rise up from that bed now, he might be killed in a car accident tomorrow, but this is different. I don’t know how to explain it, but it is.” She allowed the tears to roll down her cheeks. This was no time for pride or embarrassment.
“I know you see weeping widows every day, and I don’t want to be one of those people who blame doctors for not doing the impossible, but . . . please consider what Dr. Nishizaki is suggesting. It doesn’t make sense, but there is a chance, and if there is a chance we have to try.” She gazed at Henry. “I’ve known this man for a very long time. He has never turned his back on anyone in trouble, never turned a blind eye.”
She looked at them, making eye contact with each one in the room. “If it were you upon that bed, and Henry thought he had a one-in-a-million chance to save your life, he would drop whatever he was doing and travel whatever distance was necessary to try. He doesn’t have much longer. What can it hurt?”
“There are certain legal considerations,” one of them began.
“I’ll sign any agreement; any document you put before me.”
The silence was thick and
heavy. They stepped outside the room and closed the door. Ten minutes later, an orderly came and wheeled Henry from the room.
Alone, with her husband somewhere in the strange labyrinth of the hospital and her son somewhere in Nevada, Anna took her place in the yellow seat that she had occupied for so many long hours.
She waited.
Epilogue
1974
Henry Sachs parked his red Triumph TR6 in the garage of his Seattle home and walked into the house. It was late, 10:30 by his watch. He passed through the door that linked the garage with the house. The place was dark except for a reading lamp next to the sofa. Anna was dressed in her pajamas, and her red silk robe hung open around her. Her head was tilted to the side, her mouth open, and she was snoring. A Reader’s Digest lay on the floor at her feet. She had never looked more beautiful.
The trick would be waking her without giving her a coronary. He crossed the hardwood floors, leaned over, and kissed her on the forehead. She blinked, looked up, and smiled. Henry was certain the room brightened.
“You’re home.” She rose and put her arms around his neck.
Henry tried to remember anything that had ever felt so good. “That’s what I like about you. You’re so observant.”
She kissed his lips. “I’m still asleep. Witty repartee requires a good night’s sleep, followed by a couple cups of coffee.” She ran her hands through his dark hair. He winced, and she pulled back. “Is that a lump behind your ear?”
“Yeah, a little goose egg.”
“Did you run into something?” She looked concerned.
He smiled. “Something ran into me. It’s a long story.”
“The kind you can’t tell?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She made him turn around so she could see the injury. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when I think.”
“Oh, good, you should be pretty comfortable then.”