Ice (6 page)

Snow had already begun to dust the ground, and as they stood in the shadows getting adjusted to the dim lighting, the arctic wind cut through their coats like a knife. Seeing the pilot walking away from a small Cessna parked on the airstrip, Alex tugged on Maggie’s arm and guided her silently to the plane.

Opening the door, Alex moved the co-pilot seat out of the way, and after tossing in her backpack, she did the same with the shopping bag, and Maggie’s carry-on. As she was about to climb inside, she asked, “Do you need help getting in?”

“No…no, I can do it,” Maggie said. “I’m fine.”

Even though the woman looked frightfully ill, Alex didn’t try to argue. Scampering inside, she tossed her backpack and Maggie’s belongings behind the seat, but when she saw Maggie struggling to climb onboard, she rolled her eyes at the woman’s stubbornness. Extending her hand, she said, “Take it. You’ve never struck me as a stupid person, so don’t start now. Okay?”

Offering Alex the weakest of grins, Maggie grabbed her hand, and seconds later Alex was pulling the door closed behind her. With the help of the gusting wind, Maggie’s fever had cooled a bit, but by the time she had settled in her seat, she was sweating again. Opening her coat, she welcomed the feel of the chilly cabin air, and when the pilot’s door opened and a rush of wind entered, she breathed it in. Seconds later, a burly man with a large, bushy gray mustache climbed into the front seat.

Turning on the interior lighting, he glanced over his shoulder. “Name’s George Busby,” he said. Pausing for a moment to look at his sick passenger, he asked, “Your partner tells me that you’re ill and in need of a hospital. Is that true?”

In a ragged whisper, Maggie replied, “Yes, sir.”

More than once while he had walked around the plane doing his pre-flight checklist, he had found himself questioning his decision. He was paid to follow orders, and his orders had been to stay on the ground, but the look of gratitude on the woman’s face was undeniable. He was her savior…and they both knew it.

“Right then,” he began, glancing back and forth between his two passengers. “I should let you know a few things before we take off. First, this airstrip…this
place
is in the middle of nowhere for a reason. It’s here because it’s covert, and the location is only known by a few organizations and governments. Also, my orders were to stay put until the storm passes, and I’m about to break those orders, but in doing so, I will not destroy the integrity of this airstrip. Therefore, I’m going to follow the original flight plan issued for your return journey. It doesn’t take us to a major city, where I’m sure there’d be a hospital, but I have radioed ahead to the airfield where we’ll be landing, and requested that they have a doctor meet us when we get there. Will that work for you?”

Knowing that the question was directed at her, Maggie said, “Yes, sir. That will work.”

Keeping his focus on Maggie, he continued, “I told your partner earlier that there are three storms in the area. The one to our west, I’m not worried about. I can easily outrun it, but the other two might give us a few problems. It’s going to take us about three hours to get where we’re going, and the flight is not going to be comfortable. I’ve flown in this shit before, and it’s doable, but I want you to know that once we’re in the air, there’s no turning back.”

Pausing for a moment, Maggie asked, “I understand, but if you’re saying that we can’t make it—”

“Honey, if I didn’t think we could make it, we wouldn’t be sitting in this plane,” he interrupted. “I just need you to know that it’s going to be rough. Okay?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Studying the ill woman for a few more seconds, he finally glanced at Alex and nodded his head. Turning back around, he started the engine of the Cessna.

“Buckle up,” he said loudly, trying to be heard over the roar of the propeller. “And there are some barf bags on the back of the seats. Trust me, you’re going to need them.”

***

George Busby had always considered himself a good pilot. Having flown for over thirty years, he had experienced blizzards, monsoons and sandstorms. He had flown without the help of radar and radio, and on one moonlit summer night, he had brought his plane down on its belly when the landing gear had failed. He had survived it all with nary a scratch, but as he reached over and tried the radio again, he began to believe that his luck had finally run out. Not long after takeoff, the radio had gone silent, and now, two hours later, it was all he could do to keep control of the Cessna in the ever-increasing wind. Although not yet enveloped by the winter tempest which was closing in on them from all sides, the little plane had been pummeled by opposing wind currents throughout the flight.

Between rolling side-to-side, and feeling as if they were driving down a rutted dirt road, the small craft had bounced, dipped and tilted more than a dozen times. And while Alex had not yet needed to use an airbag, twice she had winced as she heard Maggie heave into the plastic-lined paper sack. Worried that she hadn’t seen Maggie move in over twenty minutes, Alex reached over and placed her hand on the woman’s forehead, and instantly, Maggie jerked away.

“Relax, I’m just checking,” Alex said, checking her temperature. “Christ, you’re hot.”

Welcoming the feel of Blake’s cold hand on her head, Maggie said, “I know.”

“Have you taken anything?”

“No, I’m out.”

Reaching into her jacket pocket, Alex opened the stolen bottle of painkillers. Quickly putting two in her hand, she handed them to Maggie. “Here, take these.”

“Where did you—”

“Don’t ask,” Alex said with a guilty grin. Opening her backpack, she pulled out a bottle of water and placed it in Maggie’s lap. “You’ll need this.”

“I can’t. It’s yours,” Maggie said, trying to give her back the bottle.

Shaking her head, Alex said, “I’m fine, Campbell. You need it more than I do.”

Too weak to argue, Maggie quickly swallowed the pills. Taking a few more sips of water to ease the pain in her throat, she slowly capped the bottle. “How long…do you know?”

Shaking her head, Alex turned to the pilot, and shouting over the hum of the engine, she asked, “Hey, how long before we get there?”

Turning partially in his seat to answer, when the plane suddenly dropped, Busby’s large, knobby hands gripped the yoke as he fought to correct the problem. Like a roller coaster, the Cessna dipped and rose, and then, without warning, the air grew quiet as the engine shut off.

“Shit!” he muttered as his hands flew across the instruments, trying desperately to restart the engine.

“Oh, Christ,” Alex blurted, casting a quick look in at the wide-eyed woman sitting to her right.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said as the plane continued to glide downward. “I can’t get it started…so we might have to land a little sooner than we had planned.”

“What?
Where
?” Alex exclaimed.

“There’s a place not far from here…had a fire a few years back…burned down a lot of trees. It should be large enough.”

“And if it’s not?” Alex yelled back.

“Honey, we don’t have a choice.”

Returning his attention to the matter at hand, Busby quickly began to make the plane ready for an emergency landing. Shutting off the fuel to reduce the risk of a fire, he adjusted the flaps to slow their speed, and banking slightly, he headed the Cessna into the wind to slow it down even more. Fighting against the currents jostling the plane, he gripped the yoke with determination.

Within seconds after Busby’s announcement, Maggie bowed her head and began to pray. Alex saw her make the sign of the cross, and even though she could see that Maggie’s lips were moving, Alex didn’t strain to listen. She knew that the words Maggie was whispering were only meant for God’s ears.

Alex also said a quick prayer, but she was smart enough to know that they needed more than just prayers. They needed a shitload of luck. If they survived the landing, they would still have to contend with the cold and the blackness of night, so she began to study the inside of the cabin as if it were a crime scene. As fast as she could, she committed everything she could see to memory, assuming once the plane landed the minimal interior lightning would go out and leave them fumbling in the dark.

“We’ve only got a few minutes, so listen closely. Okay?” Busby yelled.

Startled from her thoughts, Alex looked toward the cockpit. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“I’ve got to keep the landing gear up…it’s safer that way…but they’ve already had three or four good snowfalls up here this year, so we’ve probably got a base of two or three feet, which should help soften our landing.”

“Okay.”

“Just north of where we’re going to land are cabins…fishing cabins. They’ll be empty at this time of the year, but they’ll protect us from the storm.”

“North, you say?” Alex asked.

“Here,” he answered as he pulled a large silver watch from his wrist. “You hold onto this until we land. It’s got a compass.”

He looked over his shoulder as he handed Alex the watch and their eyes met. She could see his terror, and he could see her guilt.

Taking it from his hand, she said, “Look, I’m sorry for insisting—”

“No need to apologize,” he said, turning back around as he continued to struggle with the yoke. “If I didn’t think we could make it, we would never have left the airstrip.”

“But—”

“No buts, honey. When we get out of this, you owe me a beer.”

“I’ll buy you a whole bloody crate,” Alex replied, slipping the watch on her wrist. Glancing over at Maggie, Alex suddenly realized that the woman hadn’t spoken a word since the engine had failed.

Reaching over, she pushed Maggie back into her seat and tugged at the seat belt to make sure it was fastened. Taking the bottle of water from its resting spot in Maggie’s lap, Alex said with a weak smile, “I’ll give it back once we land. Okay?”

“I’ve killed us all,” Maggie said in a whisper.

Giving her hand a squeeze, Alex waited until Maggie’s eyes met hers. “You haven’t killed us. We’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I know you don’t like me very much, but I want you to know that I hope you survive. I really do.”

 Confused, Alex said, “What…you’ve got a death wish?”

Shaking her head, Maggie’s expression turned sad. “You don’t understand. Even if I live through the landing, without a hospital, I’m still dead.”

In all the commotion, Alex had forgotten the reason why they were on the stalled airplane in the first place, and Maggie’s words hit her in the stomach like a balled fist. Up until that moment, Alex had refused to think about dying. Steadfast in making mental preparations for when they landed, she hadn’t prepared herself for Maggie’s imminent death, and tears appeared in Alex’s eyes. There were no words to be said; no assurances that all would be well and warm and safe because the only thing that Maggie needed to survive, Alex knew she couldn’t give her, and she was gutted.

Breaking the silence, Busby yelled to brace for landing, and sitting back in her seat, Alex pulled the seatbelt as tight as it would go. Watching as the plane broke through the clouds, she held her breath, and as the altimeter wound down toward zero, Alex gathered her thoughts. There was no time for regrets or prayers. She was going to live. She refused to accept anything else.

Feverish and weak, Maggie was transfixed by the large snowflakes now bouncing off the windshield. In her mind, she saw them as white puffs of cotton, cloaking the world and all its hardness in a cocoon of cushiony softness, and she breathed easy. There was no need to worry anymore. No need to be afraid of something so soft and so pure. They were the fabric of His robe, and He would protect her. He would take her into his arms and carry her to the heavens where she would be forever safe. Maggie closed her eyes and said good-bye to the world.

The storms had begun to battle, and as they fought for position, the clouds shifted and streams of moonlight split the darkness. It only took George a few moments to get his bearings, and peering through the windshield, he searched the countryside for the burned-out section of forest. Spotting a large patch of whiteness against the dark, he managed to bank the plane slightly north and let out a sigh of relief. They were going to make it.

The quiet of their glide was suddenly interrupted by something scratching against the skin of the plane. A small screech, followed by a scrape, and then a ding, followed by a bang, and an eerie melody of impending doom began to fill the cabin. The women stiffened immediately, but Busby did not.

With over thirty years of flying under his belt, he knew the procedures, and he had followed every one of them. He had shut off the fuel, slowed the plane as much as he could, and he kept the landing gear raised so that it wouldn’t snag against a branch or boulder and send them somersaulting to their deaths. The scratching sound was simply tree tops rubbing the underbelly of the plane as he flew over the pines, but when he cleared the last and saw the stumps of trees scattered across his landing path, he swallowed hard. His eyes darted right and left, and seeing a section void of tree trunks, he steered toward it. For a moment, he smiled, but then something dark and imposing filled the windscreen and under his breath, he muttered, “Shit.”

With a loud crash, the branch smashed into the windscreen, shattering the glass and sending it flying into the night. Snow and harsh winter wind rushed in as Busby fought to correct the plane’s direction, but it was too late. While most of the trees in the clearing had been burned to the ground, those that had lived for hundreds of years had been too thick to turn to ash so easily. As the plane touched down, a tall, charred trunk stood its ground and ripped the right wing from the fuselage as if it had been made of paper, and the impact sent the Cessna spinning across the snow.

Forced to close her eyes against the sting of the wind, Alex felt as if she was on a carnival ride that had spun wildly out of control. Tossed back and forth in her seat like a ragdoll, it was all she could do to keep herself from passing out as the plane continued to screech and spin. It seemed like an eternity to her, but it had taken less than a minute for the plane to travel the length of the clearing, and nose first, it smashed into a stand of trees. The impact drove Alex forward in her seat, and as her head hit the back of Busby’s seat, concussion sent her into darkness.