Johnny Winchester: River Hunter (2 page)

“Hello!  Ma’am?  Ma’am?” Johnny called as he
gently patted her cheek, also crusted with blood, attempting to elicit a
response.  To his relief, all of theirs, really, she moved her head and
her eyes fluttered, eventually staying open, straining to focus on Johnny’s
face.

“Are you all right?” he asked, immediately realizing the
foolishness of the question.  “Can you tell me your name?”

With an involuntary grunt escaping her lips, she
attempted to push herself upright with her right arm.

“Now, now!  Don’t try to move.  Just relax and
talk to me,” he said, instinctively placing his hand on her left arm, resulting
in a flinch and a cry of pain.  His hand retracted and, feeling terrible
at the pain he’d inflicted, he apologized profusely.  “I’m so sorry! 
I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Nodding slightly, she relaxed back into the gravel.

“Can you tell me your name?” he asked again.

“Suzi,” she managed, weakly.

“I’m Johnny.  Where does it hurt?”  Another
foolish question.

Struggling to sit, Suzi used her right hand to push
herself up again, and, without Johnny’s interference, this time she managed
it.  Helplessly, he watched the struggle, knowing he could do nothing to
stop her, not knowing how he could help.

Taking a moment to recover, she finally answered, “My
arm, my side.”

“Your left arm and side?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“The plane.”  She closed her eyes.  “It went
down.”

“A plane crash?”

Suzi nodded.

“Where are the other passengers?”

“Just me,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Okay, it’s all right,” he soothed, wondering if she’d
piloted a small plane herself or if there were greater implications.  “We
need to get you back to camp and get help.”  He surveyed the area: the
ridge, the river, craggy rocks, Chip now nearby filming.  “It’s doubtful
we’ll get you up this ridge, but the slope on the other side is gentler. 
The river is shallow, so if we can get you around that outcrop of rocks (he
pointed), I think we can get you to the camp.”  He spoke more to his
comrades than Suzi.

Looking about, his words didn’t register, so she let
herself revel in the fact that someone had found her and was apparently going
to help.  Making an attempt to stand, she failed and the men rallied round
her to get her onto her feet.  Stooping, Johnny draped her right arm
across the back of his neck.

“Hold onto me,” he directed.  He felt her arm flex
weakly around his neck.  Taking her by the waist, eliciting a wince, he
walked her slowly to the water’s edge, feeling her flinch at each step. 
There, Johnny stopped.  Though the water was not quite to his knee, his
years of experience with the rivers of the world told him that the current in a
spot such as this would still be quite strong.  The rocks, though smoothed
and flattened at the water’s insistence, would be slick and slippery.

“Suzi,” he said.  “I don’t think you are strong
enough for the river.  I’m going to pick you up and I know that’s going to
be painful for you.  But I see no other way.”

Looking up at him, she blew air past her lips as if in
preparation.  “Okay,” she said softly.

Johnny picked her up gently, effortlessly, feeling her
shudder and tremble at the pain, though she made no sound.  “I’m sorry,”
he whispered apologetically in her ear. 

He waded through the water, which was swifter even than
he’d predicted, as quickly as he could without compromising their safety. 
As he picked his way around the rock outcrop, Suzi’s breathing shallowed, her
face blanched.  Stepping back on the bank, Johnny, as gently as possible,
set her on her feet.  Wavering, dizzy from the knife-like stabs of pain
shooting through her side, her shoulder, her arm, it all seemed black before
her and she could only hope someone would catch her when she fell.

Too consumed with pain, she did not realize that Johnny
held her firmly, keeping her upright.  Nor did she notice that the other
four men surrounded her, waiting patiently while her faint passed, Chip still
filming it all.  Slowly, the worst of the pain passed and, aware again of
her environment, she nodded, signaling that she was ready to move on. 
Carefully, they made their way up the rise, pausing regularly to allow Suzi a
reprieve from the pain, until, finally, they were in sight of the camp.

“Get my cot and sleeping bag,” Johnny said to Dave as they
entered the camp.  “And set it here next to the fire.”  This was one
of the few locations they’d fished where they could pack in more than a tent
and a shovel, for which he was suddenly very thankful.

Dave darted into Johnny’s tent; Sam and Pete, grasping
his intent, went about starting a fire; Chip continued to film.  The cot
was placed next to the fire pit, covered with the bedroll, then Johnny and
Dave, as carefully as they could, settled Suzi on the bed, propped up by almost
every pillow in the camp, covered snugly in Johnny’s sleeping bag.  Dave
went directly to the Sat phone, hoping to get a helicopter to come get her.

“Some of those cuts will need stitches,” Sam said
quietly.  “And I’m thinking that left arm must be broken.”

“I reckon she has some broken ribs, too.  What say
we give her a bit to get over the hike and warmed up, then we’ll do what we can
for her,” Johnny replied.

Sam nodded, then fetched the first aid kit, rummaging
through it to find the items he thought they would need.

“Four hours?” they heard Dave ask.  “Okay…take her
vitals and call back…you’ll have a doctor there in half an hour?  Okay…no,
she’s talking.  She seems pretty out of it, but not really in shock…are
you absolutely sure you can’t come now?  Okay...we’ll just have to do our
best.  Yes, I’ll call back in thirty minutes.”

“They can’t come get her?” Johnny asked, disappointment
and just a twinge of fear in his tone.

“It’s a four-hour trip for the helicopter and it’ll be
dark before it can get here.  They can’t land in this terrain in the
dark.  They’ll leave first thing in the morning, but we’ll have to take
care of her tonight.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Johnny drew in a deep
breath and blew it out slowly. 

“We need to get her vitals and call back.  They’ll
have a doctor there in thirty minutes,” Dave continued.  “Sam, do you
think you can handle this?”  Sam had the most experience in first aid.

“As long as she doesn’t go into shock, we’ll be all
right,” Sam responded.  “Although, I reckon if she was going to go into
shock, she would have by now.”

“Let’s hope so.  What do you need us to do?” Johnny
asked.

“You could talk to her, see if you can find out exactly
where it hurts.  And what happened to her.  The doctor and the rescue
team will want to know.  You two can help me,” Sam said, nodding at Pete
and Dave.  Then he went to work, ordering the two men to get this and that
as he needed them.  Johnny crouched at Suzi’s right shoulder, and Chip
kept filming.

“Suzi?” Johnny asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t get a helicopter here until tomorrow morning,
but we can talk to a doctor in a few minutes.  So Sam’s going to take your
blood pressure and such, and patch you up as much as he can.  Is that
okay?”

“Yeah.”  Raising her right hand, she waved it in
the air as though she wanted him to take it. 

Thinking she needed reassurance, he took her hand in
his.

“Thank you,” she said, in a weak voice infused with
sincerity.  Squeezing his hand slightly, she then released him.

“Of course,” he said, somewhat surprised.  “It’s
your left side that hurts, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“And your left shoulder and arm?”

“Yeah.  Well, my shoulder.”

“Anywhere else?”

“Some of the cuts hurt.”

“Okay, we’ll find those.  Anything else hurt that
we can’t see?”

“Just a headache.”

“That’s not at all unexpected.  We’ll get you some
Tylenol if the doctor says it’s all right.  Now, can you tell me what
happened?”

“The plane just went down.  The sound was
awful.  But once it was quiet, that was even worse.”

“Where?”

“Up the river.”

“How far, do you think?”

“I have no idea.”

Johnny paused, watching Sam as he cleaned and bandaged
the cuts, letting her rest for a moment.

 “When did this happen?” he asked.

“I don’t know the day,” she responded, shaking her head.

“It’s Wednesday.  Was it this morning?”

Suzi closed her eyes, her brow furrowed as she tried to
concentrate.  “Yesterday, I think.”

“You spent the night out here?”  With nothing more
than the lightweight red blouse, she should have died of hypothermia. 
“How did you manage to stay warm?”

“I had a jacket,” she said, lifting her head and looking
around.  “I don’t know where it is now.”

Johnny patted her forearm.  “Don’t worry, it’s all
right.  You’ll be warm enough tonight.”

Laying her head back on the pillow, she closed her
eyes.  He waited until they fluttered and remained open before continuing.

“So, yesterday,” he observed.  “What were you doing
out here?”

“Seeing the tundra.”

“Sightseeing?  How many people were on the plane
besides you?”

“Three.”

“And where are they?”

“They didn’t make it.”

Sam and Johnny exchanged heavy looks, Pete and Dave
froze,
even
Chip let the camera slip for a few
seconds.  Johnny was unable to ask the next question, he could not handle
knowing what family or friends she had lost in the crash.

“So,” he started, pausing to look for the right
words.  “You...the plane was near the river?”

“I could hear it, so I walked towards the sound. 
Then I went downstream.”

“How far do you think you walked?”

She shook her head.  “There’s no way to know. 
It seems like I walked forever, but I know that can’t be.  And I probably
wasn’t going very fast.”

“Not to worry,” he assured her, gently patting her hand.

With his barrage of questions, as well as Suzi,
exhausted, Johnny dropped into silence, his forehead furrowed, creasing his
brow.  Suzi let her head sink deeply into the soft pillows as Johnny
watched Sam finish applying a series of butterfly bandages over a deep slash on
her thigh and create a makeshift sling for her damaged left arm.  Dave,
keeping track of the time, called back on the Sat phone at thirty minutes on
the dot, and, reaching the doctor, handed the phone to Sam.  While Sam
discussed their situation with the doctor and jotted down her instructions,
Johnny filled a kettle with water and set it over the fire.

“Can I fix you a cup of tea?” he asked Suzi.

“That would be wonderful,” she responded.

“Black or herbal?”

“Black.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Just black.  Thank you.”

Putting down the phone, Sam gave an update.  “The
doctor didn’t really have anything to add.  She seemed to think Suzi’s
vitals were pretty good and said to just keep an eye on them.  Gave me a
phone number to reach her in case they change.”  He waved the paper he had
in his hand.  “We can give her three Tylenol every four hours, other than
that, all we can do is keep her warm and fed and wait until morning.”

“Three is too much, isn’t it?” Johnny questioned.

“Doc said
it’s
okay just for
tonight.”

He nodded, then rooted about in the small, black, nylon
bag that held their rudimentary stock of medicines, pulled out a bottle, and
set it on one of the rocks that made up the fire ring.  While Johnny
crouched by the fire waiting for the kettle to spew steam, the rest of the men
went about making dinner.  Even Chip, with most of the drama over for now,
put down his camera and chipped in.  When the water was hot, Johnny filled
an aluminum cup, put a teabag in it and while it was steeping, he located just
the right rock, set it down by Suzi and put the mug on it.  Then he opened
the Tylenol bottle, shook out three tablets into the lid, and set it by the
mug.

“There,” he said, “is there anything else I can get
you?”

“A couple freshly baked, warm, fudge brownies would be
nice.”

Johnny grinned.  It was the first time she’d seen
him smile and she immediately noticed the sparkle in the blue eyes and the
dimples.  She was a fool for dimples.

“I’m afraid we ate them all at lunch,” he returned.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll have to settle for a dramatic
rescue from out of the clutches of death, and some tea,” she said dryly. 
“And,” she added, “
though
I don’t want to seem
ungrateful, if the dramatic rescue ends up on YouTube, I will have to hunt you
all down and administer the Gibbs’ head slap.”

There was a moment of laughter in the camp and Johnny
wondered if the banter had been on purpose, to ease the tension.  It did
not seem likely that someone only a day away from surviving a plane crash,
where apparently three others had died, and consumed with pain could be
concerned with the comfort of others.  But they had been in great need of
a laugh, and Suzi had provided it.

When the stew (the lack of fishing time and luck meant
they had to rely on a precious can of meat) and the skillet biscuits were done,
bowls were filled all around.  Suzi balanced hers on her lap, wrestling it
with her spoon, coercing it to give up a few morsels at a time, allowing her to
consume them.  All offers of help were refused, but for one that resulted
in a nice layer of melted butter on her biscuit.  Finishing only half of
her stew, she set the bowl on the rock next to her and laid her head back into
the pillows.

“You didn’t eat very much,” Sam commented.

“I was really hungry, but now I’m really full.”

“You’re not quite so pale now,” added Dave.

“Everything always seems worse on an empty stomach,” she
replied.  “I do feel better.”