Gladioli in August (12 page)

Scrambling aboard the plane, he did the preflight checks as quickly as possible without missing anything.

Jael strapped herself in. “Will the engines start?”

“Start, yes,” he replied. “That's why I put her in here. Will she fly in that ash? That's another kettle of fish entirely.” He turned the engines on and taxied to the hanger doors.

Steve's plane hurtled down the runway and took off, gaining as much height as possible to rise above the ash cloud.

“We're only going to get one shot at this.” He left the hanger and accelerated down the runway, not bothering with his usual routine of taxiing down and turning. As soon as he had enough speed, he pulled back on the controls, praying hard that he wouldn't stall. If he stalled now, they were a dead stick.

Ash hit the windscreen, the wipers making little difference. He couldn't see a thing and hated having to rely totally on the instruments.

“It's so high,” Jael whispered.

She reached over and gripped his hand, the simple touch unnerving him and sending his mind places it had no business going especially not in a survival situation.

“I need to concentrate, honey,” he said.

“Sorry.”

He squeezed her hand for a moment before returning to the controls. “Don't be sorry. Ash is worse than snow to fly in. You know it's not ash as in bonfires, right? It's actually tiny, microscopic pieces of rock. You inhale it and it mixes with the moisture in your lungs and becomes concrete. Just a few pieces can rip an engine to shreds.”

“I didn't know that.” Her voice was quieter than it had been as she took more photos on her phone.

He banked to the right, not liking the way the engines were struggling in the ash. “I want to talk about what happened just before we left. Did Kevin hurt you?” he asked again.

“No. He tried, but nothing happened.”

“Are you sure?”

She looked at him. “He grabbed my arms and kissed me. I bit his tongue and then kicked him. Nothing he didn't deserve.”

Micah smirked. “Remind me to always ask permission before I kiss you in the future.”

Her eyes glimmered slightly, before she looked down. Did she feel the same regret he did at the man's death? Or was she, like him, numb and unable to react because of the scale of the disaster unfolding around them? Either way, they'd both have to talk properly and in detail later. To the authorities if not to each other, because her resignation and official complaint would demand an investigation despite Kevin's death.

Below them, the lava flow spread as far as the eye could see, engulfing the entire Steveton plantation and the house.

“We're too late,” Jael whispered. Tears trickled down her face.

“We have to get out of here and head to Bantu.”

“We have to look for them. Maybe they got away.”

“Look where? The whole thing has gone.” His gut twisted as the engines missed again. “Let's just get out of here before the volcano claims us, too.”

“But…”

“No buts,” he snapped. “Just let me pilot and plan the route for once.”

“OK.”

He turned back to the controls, banking away and heading to the coast. The port engine spluttered and died.

“Micah?”

He tried to restart it. The starboard engine spluttered. “Don't do this,” he hissed. He pulled back on the controls, trying to gain height. If he could get above the ash cloud, then perhaps he could restart—

Silence filled the cockpit as the second engine died.

“Brace yourself, we're going down.” He peered through the ash-scarred window. “I can't see a thing and the instruments aren't working.”

The plane hit a bank of trees as it plummeted from the sky.

Jael screamed.

Micah struggled to control the descent, trying to keep the nose up as the plane came down hard. It skidded and flipped as it crashed into the trees, finally hitting the ground and coming to rest against a rock.

10

Jael opened her eyes. Every part of her body hurt. She sucked in a deep breath, crying out in pain.
OK, stick to little breaths
. She unfastened her straps, mentally checking herself over. Apart from her breathing and intense chest pain, she seemed to be all right. “Micah?”

There was no answer. She turned to her side, biting her lip in pain. Micah sat slumped over the controls. Jael reached out and checked the pulse in his neck. He was alive. She shook his shoulder. “Micah?”

He groaned as his eyelids fluttered.

Jael immediately snapped into work mode, her own pain set aside for the time being. “What hurts?”

“Leg.” Pain-filled eyes regarded her from a too-pale face.

She felt down his leg and grimaced as her hand came away damp. “OK, let's get you out of the seat first.” She undid his straps and grabbed his shoulders. “Don't help me here, not until I know exactly what you've done.”

Micah nodded, scrunching his eyes in pain as she tugged him free from the seat.

Stabbing pain filled her chest as she pulled his heavy body from the chair into the tiny space in the back of the plane, which had fortunately stayed more or less intact after the crash. Jael grabbed her pack and pulled out the flashlight. She angled it so she could see what she was doing. She pulled on a pair of gloves and turned back to Micah.

Blood coated his trouser leg from mid-thigh to ankle. Blood was never a good sign and this much sent alarm bells ringing in her head. Working quickly, she split the fabric and groaned quietly. “OK, would you like a description?”

“No,” he managed.

Jael frowned and picked up his wrist. His skin was grey rather than pale, and his pulse was thready. “Not going to pass out on me, are you?”

“I'm trying not to. Please don't tell me it's one of those complicated fracture things like Mr. Tomsytt had?” he asked, keeping his gaze on her face.

“No, it isn't. However you have a long and very deep, jagged cut running from your knee to…”

“Whoa…” he gasped. “TMI, honey…”

“I need to stitch it, but it's going to hurt.”

“It already hurts. How much worse can it be?”

“A lot. Are you allergic to anything?”

“Crashing planes and complicated fractures.”

“Glad to see you still have your sense of humor. Anything other than that?”

“Heroin.”

Jael did a double take. “
Excuse me?”

“I broke, well fractured a bone in my neck several years ago, and that's what the docs gave me—called it diamorphine or something. I was away with the fairies for days.”

Jael measured a syringe full of pethadine. “Believe me, you're going to wish you were there again, once I start here.”

His eyes closed as she gave him the shot. Only to jerk open again as she touched his leg. He groaned, before he bit his lip hard. “Sorry…”

“Don't be,” she said gently. “I know it hurts and I'm being as gentle as I can, but there isn't time for the meds to work first. Tell me about your neck. How did you fracture it?”

“Playing rugby at school...” his voice tailed off in a shriek of agony.

Jael glanced up from where she was working on him. “Rugby always did strike me as a violent game, but one for real men.”

“American football without the padding, armor, and tea breaks every five minutes is how Dad describes…” He gasped, hands screwing into fists.

“I played caveman rugby once. Knocked the pastor to the ground whilst doing it. He wasn't impressed.” She reached for some more thread. “Halfway there. How are you doing? Have those meds kicked in yet?”

Micah gave her a lopsided smile. “Oh, yeah. Just starting to.” He tilted his head. “Has anyone told you how pretty you are when you're patching someone up?”

“Not recently.”

“OK. I shan't then.” He closed his eyes.

Jael finished stitching in silence, then wrapped his leg firmly.

I have no idea how we're going to get down off this mountain, Lord. Help us. Give us time to get to shelter if nothing else.

He groaned as he opened his eyes. “Are you done? Because we need to get out of here.”

She frowned. “Why? We're protected here. We can just radio the base and tell them where we are and that we need help and—”

He shook his head. “There won't be anyone left, remember? And the radio won't work with the damage to the console. So, I ask again, are you done?”

“Yes.” She shoved as much into her pack as possible. She'd need dressings, meds, water, and she couldn't ask Micah to carry anything. He was going to have enough problems carrying his own weight. Turning her back on him, she slid into the pack. Pain speared her and she caught her breath. “We need to find you a walking stick.”

“I keep one under the front seat,” he said, pushing himself up to sit. “It belonged to my mother.”

Jael reached under the seat and pulled out a lightweight collapsible stick.

“Undo the band and hold it away from you.”

She did so and grinned as it assembled itself. “Clever.”

“No idea why I kept it,” he said. “Give me a hand up.”

“It's brilliant. Good job you kept it.” Jael forced the door open, then turned back to Micah. “OK, let's go.” She helped him to his feet, biting her lip against the surge of pain from her chest.

Micah grimaced as he stood. “We should take the sat phone. It's under the pilot's seat.”

“I'll get it once you're out of here.” She helped him to the door.

Micah somehow managed to clamber out of the plane and leaned against it. The ash fall was increasing and looked like an intense snow fall.

Jael went back inside and found the phone. Grabbing two face masks, she went back outside and handed one to Micah. “I thought these might give us some protection against the ash. You said inhaling too much could kill us.”

“Yeah.” He put his on.

Jael did the same. “OK, which way?”

“There are caves about a mile and a half east of here.” The mask muffled his voice somewhat. “We could shelter there. I've always meant to go, but never made it.”

“Sounds good.” She adjusted the pack straps. “Time you went then. Put your arm around me.”

“This is hardly the time…” he broke off in a paroxysm of coughing which turned into a groan.

“I was going to help you walk, you numpty. Unless you think you can go it alone.”

“Yes.” Micah took one step, but despite the cane, he wobbled. His face drained of what little color remained.

Jael caught his arm and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But you're not to tell anyone I couldn't get off this mountain alone, right?”

“There's no shame in accepting help, you know,” she chided gently. “But your secret is safe with me.” She put his arm around her shoulders, sliding hers around his waist. They began taking small steps, and Jael worked to keep pace with him, aware of his every hiss of pain which matched each tiny movement.

After fifteen minutes, they'd barely gone three hundred feet, and Jael realized it was going to take them hours to make it to the caves. The ground shook almost constantly and she didn't think they had time for the caves.

“You'd get on faster…without me…” he gasped. “Leave me here.”

“Leaving you is not an option,” she replied.

“Sure it is.”

Jael stopped and turned to face him. “Why don't you stop complaining and put all your effort into getting off this mountain before she decides to kill us?”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Yes, ma'am.”

The path beneath their feet grew steeper, and Jael began to have serious difficulty in keeping her footing. Her foot slid and her heart raced uncontrollably for a few seconds.

Micah's feet went from under him and he slid out of Jael's grasp and down the mountainside. He fell, tumbling head over heels away from her.

Jael rushed forward, an ungainly mix of staggering and sliding, her arms outstretched to keep what little balance she had. “Micah?”

She reached him just as he stopped short of the edge of a lava-filled ravine. Heat and steam rose from the narrow valley as she knelt by Micah's unconscious figure. As she took hold of his arm, a huge tremor rocked the mountain, sending Micah tumbling over the edge.

11

Jael screamed as Micah vanished from her grasp over the lip of the ravine. Tears burned her eyes and she had to force herself to look over the edge at the vast lava river below her. Micah lay sprawled on a ledge fifteen feet below her. Pulling off her pack, she tugged it open and pulled out the rope and tent pegs. She allowed herself a small smile of irony. Kyle had sent the tent pegs as a joke, and now they were going to save someone's life rather than take it.

She shoved the tent peg hard into the ground and fastened two ropes around it. The first she threw over the edge of the ravine, praying it was long enough. It was. The second, she fastened to herself. She checked the rope before she backed over the edge. She abseiled down, heat rising from below, with absolutely no idea how she was going to get Micah back up the cliff. That's if he was still alive.

****

Micah coughed and gagged as something foul smelling assailed his tortured senses. Pain rocketed through him, not just from his leg this time. “What…” he managed.

A cool hand pressed against his throat. “Don't move. Are you all right? You fell a long way.”

He sucked in a deep breath as he opened his eyes. If his leg had hurt before, it was nothing compared to this. “I'm fine, honey. Don't look so worried.” He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Just a little sore, that's all.”

“Liar. Let me check you over.”

Micah tried to push himself up.

“No, no, no, no, lie still. You're lying on a ledge about fifty feet above a river of lava.” Panic tinged her voice. “I thought you'd already fallen into it.”