High Impact (33 page)

The plane had plowed nose-first into the ridge, and Pasha would probably have taken the co-pilot’s seat. Were they both dead? Injured?

Bryson waggled her wing tips to acknowledge she’d seen them, then circled to make another pass. The engine sounded rough, but still functioned all right. As she straightened, she tried to raise them on her Eidson-issued satellite phone. Dita had given every pilot and lead guide one and programmed everyone’s numbers on speed dial.

She hit the button for Skeeter’s number and, after several seconds’ delay, heard ringing. She expected one of the four, maybe Karla, even, to answer, so was shocked when Pasha picked up.

“Bryson! Thank God!”

“I don’t see you. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’m way down the ridge from the plane, to the south. I can see you. I’m heading back.”

“Where’s Skeeter?”

“In the plane. He has a bad leg infection. We need to evacuate him right away.”

“Lot of ash up here. Not sure if I land whether I’ll be able to take off again. Engine’s running rough.”

“Nowhere for you to land, anyway,” Pasha said. “We need a helicopter.”

“Is Karla all right? Looks like she has a broken arm.”

“She does, but she’s okay. Taking good care of the rest of us.”

“Gotta head back, my fuel’s low. I’ll get a chopper here soon. And Pash?”

“Yup?”

“Tell Karla I love her, will you?”

“You bet, Bryson. Get home safe. We’re relying on you.”

She waggled her wings at the foursome one more time before descending to a safer altitude. The engine still had a worrisome knock but seemed marginally better. She pushed the throttle forward and headed to Bettles at top speed.

*

Pasha raced back to the plane and arrived not long after Bryson’s call to find Toni and Ruth still celebrating upwind of the still-burning tire.

“Did you see the plane?” Toni hugged Pasha fiercely. “She saw us! That was Bryson!”

“I know.” Pasha grinned. “We talked on the satellite phone. She’s going back to Bettles to arrange for a helicopter to come get us.”

“Do you know when?” Ruth asked.

“No. It may not be right away—it’s still dangerous to fly this high, apparently. But she knows Skeeter needs to be evacuated and exactly where we are.” She patted Toni on the back. “Great job getting the fire going.”

“We were so discouraged,” Toni said. “We heard the plane when it came through going north and ran out here, but she had already passed, flying really low. By the time I got it going good, she’d disappeared. We’d given up hope and thought we’d wasted the tire. Thank God she tried again.”

“I’m going in to tell the others and then start dinner. We can safely use some of our fuel for a really special meal. We’ve got good reason to celebrate.”

Emery, Karla, and Skeeter sat laughing about something when she pulled back the flap and joined them.

“You’re back!” Emery’s relief was obvious.

“I knew if anybody found us, it’d be Bryson.” Karla jumped up and hugged Pasha with her good arm.

Pasha teased her. “I have a message from her, as a matter of fact.”

“You do? You talked to her?”

“She raised me on the sat phone. She’s headed back to Bettles to arrange for a helicopter. It may be a while, because of the ash, but she’ll do whatever it takes soon because of Skeeter.” Pasha leaned closer to Karla and added in a low voice, “She wanted me to tell you she loves you.”

Karla smiled broadly as a faint flush of pink colored her cheeks. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Pasha headed toward the food supplies and began to sort through them. “Hope you’re hungry. I’m going to whip up a feast.”

They devoured her pasta with enthusiasm, buoyed to an almost giddy fever. They talked about the first things they would do when they returned and made pacts to keep in touch. Toni and Ruth, undeterred, both said they’d be back one day to complete their aborted rafting trip.

Pasha went outside to try the satellite phone again after dinner but couldn’t reach Dita. Ready to go back in, she felt the power tell her Emery was headed her way, so she stayed there, looking out over the valley.

“Great dinner.” Emery held out her hand, and Pasha took it.

“Thanks.” At nearly nine p.m. the sun was low in the horizon, casting the landscape with the golden hue found only in the land of the midnight sun. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s coming today. Can you stand another night here?”

“Next to you? I’ll suffer through it,” Emery said. “Although I’d much rather be back in Bettles, taking you up on that dinner-candle-music-and-more scenario.”

“That’s for when a doctor pronounces you completely well, Emery.”

“I’m fine.”

Pasha knew better. She’d learned how to read the nuances of Emery’s expressions and could tell something was wrong. She glared at her with open skepticism.

“All right, so I have a bit of a headache again,” Emery admitted. “And I’m a bit achy. But I’d bet you good money I’ll feel right as rain tomorrow after another night next to you.”

“I hope so. We’ll see,” Pasha said.

Once they’d all made their requisite bathroom visits and climbed back into the plane, Pasha sealed the entrance with duct tape for what she hoped was the last time and crawled into her sleeping bag beside Emery. In high spirits, no one wanted to turn in early tonight.

Pasha actually fell asleep before any of them, succumbing to her need for rest. She awoke briefly much later, when Emery roused her enough to nestle protectively against her shoulder.

As she drifted off again, lulled by Emery’s soft breath against her neck, she tried to memorize the way their bodies fit so perfectly. From now on, she’d loathe sleeping alone.

Bryson had never been so relieved to see the familiar runway strip at Bettles. Her engine had failed twice on the journey back. She’d managed to restart the Cub both times but had been flying so low because of the ash she’d almost crashed, too. She’d have to completely overhaul the engine before she’d dare venture up again.

She got clearance to land and set down, parked the Cub beside the hangar, and ran to the Eidson Eco-Tours office, bursting through the door to find Dita and Megan hunched over the computer.

“Bryson!” Dita rushed over and hugged her, with Megan close behind.

“I found them,” Bryson said. “Everyone’s okay in both parties, but the Cessna crashed—high up, on a snowy ridge—and Skeeter needs to be evacuated right away.”

“What about Chaz?” Megan asked anxiously.

Bryson nodded. “Chaz is fine. I stopped there first. A bear got most of their food, but they’re okay for now. Found the plane quite a ways south of there but couldn’t get up to it because of the ash, and couldn’t land anyway. Reached Pasha on the sat phone, and she told me Skeeter has a leg wound with a bad infection. Karla has a broken arm. But they’re all alive and hanging in there.”

“Thank the Lord.” Dita unfolded a topographic map of the area. “I’ve been in touch with the AKRCC. Rescue flights out of Anchorage are grounded, so they’re using helicopters from the north and west. Where exactly did you find them?”

Bryson studied the map. “Here.” She pointed. “At about nine thousand feet. The ash extends down to about eight thousand but seemed to be clearing.”

Dita immediately got on the phone and updated the rescue center. When she hung up, she told them, “They think they can get a chopper there in the morning, provided the fallout has cleared enough. May be another couple of days before they get to Chaz’s crew.”

“If you can locate a plane for me, I can go get them,” Bryson said.

“I’ve got three pilots in the air from our other offices,” Dita told her. “One’s in a seven-passenger Beaver. I’ll try to raise him.”

After several tries, Dita got through and told the pilot to immediately divert to Bettles. “John’s good,” she said after she hung up, “but I’d rather send you, since you’re so much more familiar with the area.”

“What’d you do to your hands?” Megan asked, apparently noticing the abrasions on her palms when she stripped off her jacket.

“Oh, right.” Bryson had nearly forgotten about her injuries. “Got a little banged up on a scree field.”

“John won’t be here for a couple of hours,” Dita said. “Why don’t you run over to the clinic in Evansville and have someone take care of that?”

“Probably wise.” Bryson knew how quickly infections could develop, and she hadn’t been able to clean her wounds in the river very well. “Be back in a while. I’ve got my phone. Call me if anything new develops.”

“Will do.” Dita hugged her. “I’m so proud of you for finding them, Bryson. I thought I’d lose my mind.”

“You and me both,” Megan said.

Bryson shrugged off the praise. “When you told me Karla was on the plane, I almost had a heart attack. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her. She’s everything to me.”

*

Next day, June 13

“Shouldn’t be long now.” Pasha marveled at how much the skies had cleared overnight. A steady wind had blown away the haze, and though they still couldn’t raise anyone on the satellite phone, Bryson would deliver on her promise to get a helicopter to them at the earliest opportunity.

She and Emery kept watch, ready to light their signal fire as soon as they detected an approaching aircraft. Because of the acoustics in the high mountains, they could usually hear the low buzz of a prop long before a plane or helicopter appeared.

This fire wouldn’t be as visible as their previous one, or as long-lasting. They’d stacked up everything that could possibly burn, but it didn’t amount to much and wouldn’t produce the thick black smoke the tire had. Her signal mirror would provide backup to alert rescuers to their exact position.

The others were all in the plane, packing their necessities and readying to leave. Pasha had told them they’d likely have to leave their duffels and most of the gear behind to fit in the same chopper. No one complained, not that she’d expected any resistance. She felt lucky to have been stranded with such down-to-earth, brave individuals. All of them said they were just happy to be getting out of there.

“I hope we don’t overload the chopper after that breakfast,” Emery said. “I think you should get a cooking medal for coming up with that one.”

“Glad you liked it.” When she’d seen the familiar azure-blue skies, Pasha decided to use whatever food and fuel she wanted, since they couldn’t take any non-essential items anyway. She had treated them to coffee and a savory one-pot hash comprised of potatoes, onions, powdered eggs, reindeer sausage, cheddar cheese, and herbs—an improvised concoction that drew rave reviews.

Pasha couldn’t remember feeling so many conflicting emotions: joy and relief that they’d probably leave today, but sadness that she and Emery would have to separate, with a very uncertain future. Who knew how long Emery might be hospitalized and what the status of their future trips might be?

She turned to study Emery’s face in profile—cheeks pink from the cold, dark hair blown back by the wind. Even with her cuts and bruises, she was striking. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

Emery glanced her way, seeming surprised. “Why, thank you, though I feel anything but, since I’ve never needed a shower more. What brought that on?”

Pasha gripped the front of Emery’s jacket and pulled her close, then kissed her soundly. “I’m already missing you, that’s all,” she said when they parted.

“I’m not thrilled about being separated, either,” Emery replied, wrapping her arms around Pasha’s waist. “And not just because your power seems to be the best medicine on the planet.” She gazed intently into Pasha’s eyes. “But it’s only temporary. As soon as I can, I’ll be on the first plane back to Bettles. And even if Dita cancels every single trip, I’m not going anywhere any time soon. I need significantly more alone time with you.”

Pasha’s eyes grew moist. “For real?”

“Absolutely.” Emery kissed her forehead. “I’m counting the minutes until I can take you up on our date.”

“I hope—” Pasha froze. “Listen.”

They both turned toward the faint, intermittent sound from the north. Definitely manmade. “Get the others!” she told Emery as she hurried to the signal fire and lit it.

By the time the helicopter came into view, they all stood outside, waving colored jackets and anything else they could find to draw attention to themselves—all but Skeeter, who’d been helped from the plane and lay on a sleeping bag on the snow. Pasha signaled with the mirror, apparently not needing to. The red-and-white chopper headed directly toward them, then circled above, its huge prop blowing up snow and ash as the pilot searched for a place to land.

“We need to evacuate you one at a time with a litter,” a voice boomed through a bullhorn from the open side door. “Everyone step back, please. We’re sending someone down.” A crewmember dressed in an orange jumpsuit descended in the metal rescue basket.

Pasha and Karla headed toward him as he unstrapped himself and gave the pilot a thumbs-up.

“You guys are very lucky,” he said, glancing over at the plane. “What do we have in terms of injuries?”