The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

by Derek Ciccone

  Billy recalled when Captain “Sully” Sullenberger was able to land a commercial airliner in the Hudson River, heroically saving the lives of all passengers. But that was a much different situation, both geographically and weather-wise.

  “You think he tried a water landing?”

  “More like an ice landing today, but yes, I think he was trying to make it to the river. I just don’t think they had enough juice left to get over the trees. So they clipped them during their attempted descent, likely at the highest point.” She again pointed up toward the top of the mountain, and her voice fell off, “I think that’s where they went down.”

  Billy took another look upward, shielding his eyes from the snow. He thought it was also possible that with the low visibility, the pilot just didn’t see the trees. But whatever the specifics, he believed Lindsey was onto something, and they should keep following her lead.

  They rested for a few minutes, ate peanut butter crackers, and made sure Carolyn drank multiple waters. It hit the spot, but nobody enjoyed the snack and drink more than Nails.

  “Are we almost there?” Carolyn asked, for the first time a whine in her voice. Billy thought it was more about her impatience than being tired.

  “Not too much further,” Lindsey replied, smartly keeping it vague.

  Billy was focused on what “there” meant. What would they find there … or not find? None of the answers were encouraging, so he pushed them from his head.

  They started again, and soon the trail began to descend. Billy found it strange that they were now headed downward, since Lindsey believed the plane went down at the top of the mountain, but he wasn’t complaining.

  They followed the path for about five minutes, and Billy noticed the markings had changed from blue to red. When he inquired, Lindsey explained they had switched paths from Trimp to Dunderberg Mountain. Also mentioning that this was the point where she’d normally turn back on her hikes. Not only was it too late for that, nobody would be coming for them anytime soon. If a rescue mission for a downed plane was deemed too dangerous, one certainly wouldn’t be sent for the idiots who defied their orders to climb up a mountain in a blizzard. A cold burst of air shot through Billy as if to accentuate the point.

  The trail started to rise again, passing a dense cluster of birch saplings. It felt like the forest was growing thicker and that it was closing in around them. They plowed on, reaching another unfinished, graded section of railroad.

  Carolyn ran ahead toward the structure, perhaps thinking it was the plane. Billy and Lindsey had both grown too tired to warn her again about running ahead and saved their breath. He watched as she ran, but then she suddenly stopped … and froze.

  At first, Billy wasn’t sure the reason for the abrupt halt, but then he saw it. Lindsey did to. He didn’t know how he could miss it—it was the size of a small truck.

  Standing about ten feet away from Carolyn, staring intently at her, was a bear.

  Chapter 64

  Billy’s first instinct was to run to her and pull her back to safety, but Lindsey held him back. “They don’t usually bother people,” she said.

  “Usually? Are you willing to take that chance?”

  “We don’t have a choice,” she said to Billy, before turning her attention to Carolyn. “Don’t be scared … he’s not going to hurt you.”

  Carolyn appeared more awed by the creature than scared, but whether he was dangerous was still unclear.

  Lindsey continued, “Talk to him, Carolyn. Make sure he knows you’re not an animal.” One he might think would make a tasty lunch.

  “Why would he think I’m an animal?”

  “I don’t know, ask him.”

  She looked at the bear, no retreat in her body language. “Mr. Bear—do you think I’m an animal?”

  The bear continued staring at her, sizing her up. Billy had a bad feeling about this.

  Carolyn kept staring back at him, and then her eyes widened with excitement. “Now I know who you are—you’re Smoky the Bear. I didn’t recognize you without your hat.”

  The bear kept staring.

  “You should really wear a winter hat and a scarf, Smoky, when it’s snowing out.”

  The bear growled and Billy jumped back, as did Carolyn. She suddenly didn’t look so confident.

  “Tell her to get out of there,” Billy whispered to Lindsey.

  “Running is the last thing she should do—it will trigger its predatory instinct. Plus, they can run up to thirty-five mph, so if he wants to catch her, he will.”

  Carolyn turned back to Billy and Lindsey. “He looks real mad.”

  “Just stay still,” Lindsey said, calmly, “and keep talking to him.”

  “You say he’s not interested in eating humans, but what if it’s all the food he can find in this storm, and he’s desperate?”

  “I’m more concerned about Nails,” Lindsey quietly answered. With his black and white fur he might look like a mixed breed of chocolate and vanilla cake to the starving bear. Nails looked a bit concerned himself, but was sticking by his master.

  “I know why you’re mad, Smoky—you think I might start a forest fire.”

  Another low growl.

  “I promise I’m not going to start a forest fire. We’re just looking for my dad … he crashed … do you wanna help us find him?”

  “Now that he knows she’s not dinner, shouldn’t he be moving on?” Billy asked.

  “He’s just standing his ground. If he starts moving toward her then we’ve got a problem.”

  On cue, the bear let out a loud woof and growl, this one echoing off the mountain. And he started chomping his teeth.”

  “Shit,” Lindsey said.

  The bear started slapping the ground with his front feet, and Billy swore he felt the earth shake. And then he started in Carolyn’s direction.

  Lindsey was already on the move, making a beeline straight for the bear. He turned and growled at her, annoyed by the intrusion. If her goal was to take his attention away from Carolyn, mission accomplished. If she wanted to avoid all of them getting eaten, then she better do something, and fast.

  “Hey Mr. Bear,” Lindsey said, “I think we have a misunderstanding here. You don’t eat people … we don’t digest very well. So I brought you an alternative.”

  She tossed a handful of peanut butter crackers at his feet. He sniffed them out—not interested. He growled again.

  “I think it’s time for you to move on,” Lindsey raised her voice, surprising everyone, including the bear.

  The bear did the opposite, taking an aggressive step in her direction.

  When he did, she sprayed him with a substance. The bear immediately grew irritated, and began swatting his arms at the air and growling. He galloped back into the woods as quickly as he arrived.

  Billy arrived, not feeling very macho, having let the women and pets save the day. But thrilled nobody was dinner. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Better than the bear,” Lindsey said, and held up the plastic container in her hand. “It’s pepper spray, specifically designed for bears. I bring it with me when I hike. Like I said, usually they don’t mean any harm, but better safe than sorry. And I only use it if I have to—it’s no fun for him right now.”

  Billy wasn’t overly interested in the bear’s feelings, and with the mini-drama out of the way, they returned to the task at hand. They continued hiking up the Dunderberg Trail; Nails looking particularly relieved by the turn of events.

  They kept climbing until they reached the summit—1,115 feet high, according to the marker. The path leveled out, just in time, as the snow had picked up its pace once again. There was very little daylight left, if you could even call it daylight.

  The signs began to appear. The singed forest, tree limbs scattered everywhere, the heavy smell of gasoline in the air. They were close.

  Carolyn sensed it also. She and Nails again ran ahead—if she didn’t learn a lesson after almost becoming bear food, she was never going to learn.


  “I think I see the private plane,” she shouted out.

  Billy’s stomach gripped. Just the thought of what she might find at the crash scene was too devastating to ponder. He wanted to protect her from any more hurt.

  He and Lindsey ran after her, but by the time they caught her, she was already staring at the horrific, mangled mess before them. The front of the plane was nothing but twisted metal, impaled into a row of trees. The back half was about fifty feet away, still smoldering. The smell of jet-fuel was overwhelming. The only positive was that there was no fire, and didn’t appear to be any sign of an explosion. Perhaps the snow and rain was able to keep it from going up in flames.

  “The private plane is really broken,” Carolyn said.

  Billy dashed to the plane’s front section, yelling, “Chuck! Chuck!” no matter how hopeless it felt. He climbed up on the wreckage, and was able to get a view through the plane’s shattered windshield.

  Inside the cockpit, the pilot was slumped on the controls, his face bloody and unrecognizable. Billy felt like he was going to puke. He got down and inspected what was left of the plane and the area around it. No sign of Chuck or Dobbs.

  Lindsey was desperately searching through the area where the back of the plane ended up, calling out in a panic, “Can you hear me, Chuck!? Talk to me! Chuck!”

  But then she made a discovery. An object lodged in the snowy terrain. When she realized what it was, she collapsed into the snow. It was Chuck’s cell phone.

  “Nooo!” she screamed out, so raw, so shrill, that Billy felt like her voice was scraping against his spine. “Chuck!”

  Just when all hope was about to be whisked away in the frigid air, a faint voice could be heard in the distance.

  They waited for it again, just to make sure it wasn’t the wind whistling through the trees, creating one last, cruel false hope. And there it was again, “We’re over here … help.”

  They ran toward the voice, Carolyn leading the way. They arrived at a steep gully, a couple hundred yards away from the wreckage. Chuck was huddled with John Dobbs, next to a small fire they had built.

  Their faces were battered, and blackened with soot. Chuck had a deep gash under his left eye; the red blood had frozen to his face, making it look like he was wearing war paint. It was a good thing his daughter had brought a full box of Band Aids with her.

  With no hesitation, Carolyn barreled down the steep gully, excitedly shouting, “Daddy—we found you.”

  Chuck tried to get up, to try to catch her if she fell, but his face winced with pain, and he was unable to stand. He was still able to manage a dazed smile as he looked to Carolyn. “I knew you’d find me, princess.”

  She flashed him a disappointed look. “I thought we talked about this—I’m Supergirl now, not princess.”

  His smile grew wider. “You certainly are … and you’re my hero.”

  Chapter 65

  Dana stood in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the strapless tiered lace grown, crafted from swathes of ivory lace. The Lana Lu dress fit her body so perfectly that she felt like she was naked when she wore it, which played into one of her greatest fears—standing before all the guests in the buff. But then again, there was no more naked feeling than opening your heart, and trusting your happiness to another, which was the essence of marriage.

  She viewed the floor-length gown once more, and her loose, curly updo that was decorated with pearls. She wore drop earrings … her mother’s. Her makeup was perfect. She was ready … all she needed was a groom.

  A knock on the door was followed by Chuck entering what used to be his bedroom. He balanced on a wooden cane, his face still a beaten mess. But him standing there was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in the hospital?” she said with a happy smile.

  “Whitcombs play hurt … it’s not like I had anything amputated.”

  That was true, but his left leg had been, to use the doctor’s word, shattered. And was put back together with surgery, which required numerous screws. Chuck actually took pride in his battered and bruised face—said he felt like he was back playing hockey—and joked, “You should see the plane—it got the worst of it.” They couldn’t tell if he was really in such good spirits or if it was the heavy pain medication talking, but it didn’t matter as long as he was still with them.

  According to Billy, the plane had actually split into two pieces after crashing into the trees atop Dunderberg Mountain, so Chuck was technically right. But any humor was mitigated by the fact that the pilot didn’t survive, and his family was planning a funeral today and not a wedding. On the bright side, a flight attendant, Tatum Reese, who was initially reported as having died in the crash, turned out to have not been on the flight.

  John Dobbs was still in a New York hospital. His malady list sounded like that “Twelve Days of Christmas” song you incessantly hear this time of year—three broken ribs, two collar bones … and a lacerated kidney. He also had two broken legs, but still somehow carried Chuck—no small man by any means—away from the crash site, and gathered enough wood to build a fire.

  When the NTSB official on the scene was asked how they survived, he responded simply, “I’m not sure I ever believed in Christmas miracles, but I do now.”

  There was really no explanation—an inch one-way or the other during impact and … she didn’t even want to think about that.

  “I see where Carolyn gets it.”

  He smiled. “Her good looks?”

  “No—her ability to escape the hospital.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “And you do look very handsome … for a human piñata.”

  “Nobody’s going to be looking at me today. All eyes are going to be on the stunning bride. Billy’s a lucky man.”

  “Thank you … but we both know I’m the lucky one.”

  “I’ll keep that between us,” he said, grinning through pain. “Do you need anything? Last requests?”

  “I think we’re all set,” she said, then started tearing up. She tilted her head back—her tears wrecking the makeup was not an option. She had thought of one thing that was missing. “I need my Maid of Honor.”

  Chuck just nodded somberly.

  Rachel Wentz and Dana had been friends since nursery school, and she was a worthy choice, but she had really big shoes to fill—four-inch satin pumps with glittery embellishments, to be exact—standing in for Beth as Dana’s Maid of Honor.

  “There’s one other thing missing,” Chuck said, getting off the Beth topic as quick as possible.

  Dana couldn’t think of what that might be. She was sure they’d covered everything, and nothing got past Coach. “What’s that?”

  “Due to the obvious,” he pointed to his cane. “I won’t be able to walk you down the aisle. So you’re going to need a replacement.”

  “I figured that—being able to walk is part of the job requirement. It doesn’t really matter who it is … as long as it’s not Hawk.”

  “I’ve found a replacement.”

  This intrigued her. “You did?”

  “You’ve done so much for Carolyn and me … and of course, Beth. So we wanted to repay you.”

  Her intrigue turned to concern. “What are you up to, Chuck?”

  “Just remember—sometimes things don’t seem like a gift at first, but later you realize it. I sure didn’t think it was a gift when that plane was going down, but now, how things are so clear for me, and I’m so focused on what I have, not on what I don’t, I think I’m going to look back on it as a gift.”

  “What kind of painkillers are you on? And can I get some of that?”

  He flashed a glazed smile, and hobbled out of the room.

  In rolled a man in a wheelchair, Roxanne pushing him, with that same smile on her face. Dana took one look at her father and filled with anger.

  She ran after Chuck. “You can’t do this.”

  “I already did.”

>   “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but this is so not happening.”

  “You really don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “I don’t? It’s my wedding.”

  “It’s my house—my rules,” he said and continued hobbling away. She was tempted to kick the cane out of his hand, but what would that accomplish? She returned to the bedroom to take care of the problem that’s been haunting her … once and for all.

  Chapter 66

  Roxanne handed her a piece of paper.

  “We’ve been working on this for over a year. If we complete one sentence in a week, we’re ahead of schedule.”

  Dana looked closer—it was a letter. “Schedule for what?”

  “His goal was to complete it before his death,” she caught herself, “Oh, don’t misconstrue my words, his death is not imminent.” As if that would somehow trouble Dana. “You just never know in his condition.”

  Dana just looked at the paper.

  Roxanne continued, “He expected to leave it to you in his will, so we had to rush to prepare it for today. He never thought he’d get an opportunity to present it to you in person.”

  Either did Dana.

  “I can tell you don’t want him here, dear, and he senses it as well. But if you’ll just read the letter, or even promise to read it in the future, we’ll be on our way. The last thing he wants to be is a dark cloud on your sunny day.”

  A little late for that.

  Dana looked at her father, who had the same hopeful eyes as when she’d visited him at Fawn Meadows. He looked slightly better than her last visit, more like Tom Boulanger in his tuxedo, but still sickly and frail.

  Without a word, Dana began to read. The quicker she did, the sooner she could leave the circus and get back to the wedding.

  My Dearest Dana,

  With full knowledge you don’t hold me in the same esteem.

  I have been wished to hell by many adversaries, on many occasions, and perhaps even yourself. And I’m (barely) living proof that those wishes have been granted in full.