Around the World in 80 Men Boxed Set 31-35 (57 page)

BOOK
THIRTY-FIVE

BELIZE

Chapter
One

When
Morgan was eleven years old, she and her Gran had held tightly to one
another in the basement of their old home. For nearly ten minutes,
the town's tornado siren screamed through the night, warning of a
possible touchdown in the area. Morgan cried in her Gran's arms, but
she wasn't afraid of the tornado itself. Her only fear was that
something would happen to the most important person in her world.

The
warning had been valid. The sound of the monster was what Morgan
remembered the most. It was as if a freight train was about to crash
right through the wall at any second. There was nothing else outside
of the ear shattering noise, and the expectation of being taken by
the storm.

Later,
when asked what she thought of the tornado that barely missed their
home, Morgan had simply responded that she now knows what horror
sounds like. Because that was the only word that could describe that
terrifying sound.

Seconds
after Markus told her that they had been hit, and the captain
prepared them for impact, she heard it for the second time in her
life. Horror. That time, it was slightly different in that she could
hear the screaming of the other passengers, along with the sound of
the freight train blasting through her head. Morgan squeezed her eyes
shut tightly and held to Markus with all the strength that she had.
She knew he couldn't hear her, but she spoke into the horror
nonetheless. “We'll see Gran soon, you'll like her.. I
promise.” Morgan got to finish her last word, before her world
shook violently....then turned black.

*****

“We
have a ground visual, the craft is down. There's smoke and visible
fire, the debris field is nearly half a mile in radius.” The
first to see the aftermath, Jules Marion from Van Buren, Maine, had
made the call to the Sheriff's department. She was a game warden, and
the only one on duty at the time in the area. It was two in the
morning, in a sleepy town near the border of Canada, and her quiet
shift had just changed drastically.

She
drove her truck as close to the area as she could, then got out and
ran to the side of the craft. A four foot gap that was shredded open
like a tuna can, was where she ran. “Hello! Can anyone hear
me?!” Jules shined her light into the cabin, and had to stifle
the shock that overwhelmed her. “I'm here! I'm right here!”
She swayed her flashlight from side to side, and heard confirmation
by way of cries and soft moans that there were survivors. Her light
also crossed the bodies of several souls that weren't so lucky.
“Christ, hurry.” She spoke through grit teeth, praying
that she would hear sirens, or see lights cross the field. One
voice, which sounded not a foot from her leg, got her attention.

“You're
here......?” She couldn't understand exactly what the young
woman was saying, but she was alive.

“I'm
here. My name is, Jules. Can you see my hand?” Jules reached
down and shined her light over her gloved fingers. “Take my
hand if you can, darlin'.” A small hand gripped her thumb, and
Jules reached down. She grabbed the hand completely, and pulled her
gently from her seat. “We have to hurry, okay?” The smell
of jet fuel, and the flames that were moving closer from underneath
the plane, had removed all protocol to wait for first responders. “I
got ya, here we go.” Jules unhooked the belt, then grabbed
under the girl's arms before picking her straight out of her seat.
Jules carried her twenty feet from the wreckage, then returned
to the opening in a full sprint. Within moments, she hauled another
person to rest with the first. A man that had barely gained
consciousness while Jules pulled him to safety, had succumbed to the
darkness again. The following fifteen minutes were spent carrying or
pulling the victims from their seats, and to the safety of the
growing group propped against the snow. Finally, as if God had heard
her prayers, lights from emergency vehicles bounced from the white
fluffy banks through the barren land.

The
lights turned to sound, and the sound turned to action. Dozens of
firefighters, paramedics, and police officers arrived in unison. The
wreckage was surrounded by those that could help, and Jules fell
against a tree near her group. Her body was already nearing collapse
from the fear, excitement, worry, and physical strain. She had truly
given all she had for people she'd most likely never see again.

Jules
slid her back down the tree until her bottom was close to the surface
of the snow. Her legs shook as she tried not to land hard on the
ground, but her body felt too heavy to hold on her own. She hit the
snow with a dull thud, and the first person she pulled from the plane
rolled her head in Jules' direction. “Thank you.”
Morgan's eyes barely opened, but she could see that the tall white
haired woman had returned.

“Stay
still, darlin'. Help will be here soon.” Jules looked over to
the ambulances who were filing in one after the other. Just as they
loaded passengers into the back, another one would pull up and take
the next group that were removed. She knew that her group would be
next when she saw an ambulance drive completely around the debris,
and in their direction. “Hold on, they're here.”

“Jules.”
The girl had vaguely remembered her hero's name, but it came to her
before her eyes shut again.

Morgan
tried to focus on the woman that pulled her from the plane, but she
faded from reality before speaking another word.

The
plane was rocking, and Morgan's head moved from one side of her
pillow to the other in an awkward rhythm. “Markus, will you
hand me a blanket?” Morgan mumbled to her companion as the
sounds around her brought her eyes open again. “Markus?”
She reached to her side but couldn't find him. No, she realized, she
wasn't on the plane.

“Miss,
it's alright. We're on the way to the hospital.” A very young
man held her hand as she stared into his face. “I'm sure your
friend is alright.” Morgan looked around, finally realizing
that she was in an ambulance. “I have to find, Markus.”
The man pointed to her right at the other person they were
transporting. It wasn't Markus, and even with the fog consuming her
mind, she knew that the large tattoo on the man's arm meant that it
wasn't her friend.

Morgan
closed her eyes again, thinking that she certainly would have noticed
if Markus had a man's face on his arm. That was the last and only
thought she had before finding the darkness that held her mind until
hours later.

*****

“All
twelve survivors are in ICU. I'm sorry, but I can't release their
names over the phone.” The nurse spoke softly into the
receiver, as she had done for the past ten hours since they had been
brought in. She never spoke of the one hundred and fourteen that
didn't survive the crash. The poor souls had been taken to a larger
hospital with a more accommodating facility. She wished she had more
help at the station to handle the calls, but she did the best she
could under the circumstances.

“How
are you holding up, Maureen?” Jules leaned against the counter
and handed her sister a coffee. Maureen sighed and took a sip before
answering.

“I'm
alright, just waiting on someone to get here and field some of these
calls.” Maureen had help for the first five hours of her shift,
but had been on her own ever since. “I'll be off soon, but I'll
probably stick around for awhile.” Jules understood. The women
had been raised to care for people, which is why they chose their
personal careers, and that day had proven that they were correct in
their choices.

“Are
the twelve going to make it?” Jules walked to the entrance of
ICU and peered through the glass to the few beds that she could see.
Maureen said that she was hopeful, but it broke her heart that so
many had been lost. “What's her name?” Jules pointed to
Morgan who had been sedated heavily. Maureen checked the chart and
walked to stand close to her sister.

“Holland.
Morgan Holland. She has a concussion, and some bruised ribs. She and
the two guys at the end are incredibly lucky. Considering the
alternative, those three got off the easiest. Jules looked at the
occupants in their beds and nodded. The part of the crash that she'd
stepped through had held all three of them. She knew, because she
pulled them out. For whatever reason, it had turned out to be the
safest place on the plane. The rest of the survivors were in horrible
shape, but they were all being treated together to avoid the press
that would disrupt all of their recovery.

“If things settle down, we'll move those three to a private
room tomorrow. If not, the hospital is considering having them taken
out of here secretly to give them some peace. Jules agreed that the
second plan would work best considering the circus that she had to
fight just to get through the front door of the hospital.

*****

“Angel
speaking.....your ass had best be important. Or sexy. Say words.”
Angel had just put PoPo on the sink to start a play bath for the bird
when his phone caught him off guard. He didn't even check to see who
it was before answering, and was shocked to hear his favorite Aussie
on the other end.

“Have
ya heard? Do ya know anything, mate?” Tanner was out breath,
and speaking so fast that Angel was having trouble keeping up.
“Anything at all?” Tanner walked to the end of the small
dock, then back towards land. He'd just returned from a fishing trip
when the news of a plane crash was announced over the radio. He
heard, “flight from Norway to Belize,” and his world
closed in so hard around him that he struggled just to stand. The
last text he'd received from Morgan was her typical check in.
'Heading to Belize, will talk soon.' He cursed himself for not
replying, but they always caught up when they had time. He had tried
to text and call her for hours, but she never answered.

Angel
turned the water on for PoPo, and helped him into his small tub that
was placed in the sink. He assumed Tanner was drunk, and he didn't
have time for any nonsense right then. “What my ass has heard
is that Australian men can handle their liquor. You're the
mothafuckin' exception. Have a liquid with caffeine and call me when
your ass makes sense.” Angel ended the call and went a step
further by turning off his phone. He had three loads of laundry to
do, the landscapers to deal with, Skankzilla demanded a meal that was
going to take five hours to prepare, and he still needed to go to the
grocery store to pick up avocado. There was no time to entertain his
drunken friends, even if it was a hottie from down under. “Sorry,
Tan Man. But this bitch has shit to do.”

Tanner
tried calling Angel back, but again, was left staring at his phone.
“Fuck!” He ran off the dock and to his truck. He'd call
every person he knew if that's what it took, and his next call was to
Scotland.

Chapter
Two

“He's
no' in today. I'm to direct his business type of calls to the
secretary. Ye can leave a message if ye wish.” Burke looked for
a pen in the kitchen, but Tanner told him that he'd call back later.
Unfortunately, he'd called after Finlay had injured his back when he
tried to show someone the proper way to use a sledge hammer. He
should have, he discovered, learned it first himself. He had spent
the morning at the doctor's office, and left his phone to Burke.

“Doesn't
anyone listen to the fucking news?!” Tanner drove back to his
house and took the porch stairs three at a time. He stormed through
the front door and ran straight to his computer. He refused to flip
through channels on the television when all the news he needed was
online. “Oh my god! Oh, Morgan!” The first article he
read stated that only twelve people on board had survived. “No!
Oh, Morgan.. no!” He closed his laptop and his head dropped to
the table as he openly cried for the most likely loss of Morgan
Holland.

Tanner
wiped his face with the back of his arm and looked at this phone. He
was about to scroll through his contacts, hoping to figure out who to
call next. “I... fuck... I can't.” His phone dropped on
the desk before he left the room and headed towards the kitchen. The
six pack in the refrigerator wasn't going to be enough for the pain
he was about to numb.

*****

“Tanner?” Morgan heard his voice, and opened her eyes
slowly. She blinked hard, trying to find his face in the darkness.
“Is that you?”

“
Yeah,
Love. I'm here.” There was a soft click, and his face was
illuminated by the warm glow of a small lamp on the bedside table.