Johnny Winchester: River Hunter (3 page)

“You just rest for a while.  It will be dark soon
and hopefully you can get a good night’s sleep,” Johnny put in.

She did just that as the men finished their dinner,
washed the dishes in the river (it was Chip and Dave’s turn to make the trek),
and cleaned up.  The fire was banked and all was made ready for the camp
to turn in for the night, until they realized that Suzi was out in the open and
they could not fit the cot, with her in it, through the tent opening.  A
discussion ensued and once she figured out what the men were talking about, she
spoke up.

“I get can up,” she said, pushing the top of the
sleeping bag aside and slowly swiveling her legs to put her feet on the
ground.  Protesting, the men tried talking her into lying back down, but
she would have none of it.  Stretching out her right arm, she said, “If
someone would just help me up, I’ll be fine.”

Pete was closest, so he grasped her forearm in his hand
and pulled her to her feet.  Johnny grabbed the sleeping bag, Dave and Sam
quickly deconstructed the cot and reconstructed it in Johnny’s tent, then Suzi
shuffled slowly to the tent, stooped through the door, and sat down on the
bed.  A thought clouded her eyes.

“I’m taking your cot,” she observed.  “I hate to do
that.”

“In my line of work,” Johnny responded, “a cot is a
luxury.  I reckon I’ve slept on the ground more times than in a bed.”

“Still...” she started.

“No, no, no.  You will sleep right there and not
worry about me
a’tall
.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now let’s get you settled,” he said as he lifted her
feet onto the cot, fluffed the pillow, and zipped the sleeping bag.  “We
have plenty more blankets if you get cold.  I’ll be right here next to
you, so just speak to me and I’ll get you one.  If you need anything
a’tall
, just speak to me.”

“Thank you.  Perhaps you could bring some water and
the Tylenol bottle in here, then I wouldn’t have to wake anyone if I need some
more in the night.”

“Sam has his watch set for four hours so he can come give
you some and check your vitals.  The doctor wanted them taken on a regular
basis.”

“I’ve really disrupted your fishing trip, haven’t I?”

“Not to worry.  Not to worry
a’tall
. 
Your life is a wee bit more important than our little fishing trip.  I am
curious about something, though.”

“Sure.”

“You didn’t mention any pain in your back, but just now
you looked as though your back was bothering you.”

“I’m kind of sore all over, but the real problem is
fibromyalgia.  I haven’t had my medicine since...did you say it’s
Wednesday?  (Johnny nodded)  Since yesterday morning and the pain and
stiffness are definitely creeping up.”

“I see,” he nodded.  “The helicopter will be here
in the morning, so you just have a few hours to go and we’ll try to keep you
comfortable, if we can.  So, if you’re settled, I’ll turn down the light.”

“I’m settled.”

The camp light was put out, the pitch darkness enveloped
Suzi and Johnny, their tent, and the entire camp.  Everything was
completely still and silent, but for the sounds of the wilderness and Suzi’s
soft voice

“Johnny,” she called.

“Yes?”

A long pause followed.  “Never mind,” she finally
said. 

“Is there something wrong?  Do you need something?”
Johnny asked, concerned.

“No.  I’m fine.  Really.”

As Johnny lay there, listening for Suzi’s shallow
breathing to even out in sleep, he worried over what Suzi may have needed when
she had called him.  More worrisome, however, was why her voice, calling
his name in the dark, had caused his heart to skip a beat.

The camp stirred in the pale, gray of dawn, long before
the sun’s rays found their way over the mountain peaks and through the trees to
illuminate the small, tent-strewn clearing.  Sam’s first task was to check
on Suzi, whose vitals had remained stable throughout the night.  Sleeping
fairly peacefully, though pain still stained her face, he didn’t disturb her,
but instead, went out to help with breakfast.  Awake, Johnny laid quietly
on the floor of the tent, wanting to be there when Suzi woke.  Her cheeks
held just a wee bit of color, still far more than the night before, and he
thought that under the pain there was quite an attractive face, though the
blood-flecked silver hair framing it, he was sure, wasn’t doing it justice.

The smells of breakfast roused Suzi and she insisted on
getting up and sitting with the men for the meal.  With a little help from
Johnny, she got off the cot and, under her own power, stooped through the tent
door and lowered herself into one of the camp chairs, though not without a few
grunts and moans.  By then, Dave had checked in on the Sat phone and
discovered that the chopper was in the air and should arrive within two
hours.  It was closer to three, however, before two men carrying a
stretcher crashed through the trees, introduced themselves, and while one went
to Suzi’s aid, the other wanted information about the plane crash.  As the
nurse put in a line and hung a glucose IV bag from the back of the camp chair,
Suzi told the other man all she knew about the location of the plane, and
Johnny paced nearby.  He knew they were doing what was required, but he
was anxious to get Suzi on the helicopter and to the hospital.

The trees rustled once more and half a dozen men and
women, dressed and equipped for a rescue mission, or recovery as it may turn
out, entered the camp.  Information was shared, directions given, and a
discussion ensued, resulting finally in the six rescuers and the four-man
“River Hunter” crew moving out, headed up river.  Just as quickly, Suzi
was lifted onto the stretcher, the stretcher lifted by the two men, and the
trio, accompanied by Johnny, made their way through a rather wide stand of
trees to the waiting helicopter.  With a bit of wrangling, the stretcher
was loaded and secured.  The nurse sat at Suzi’s head, clicked his seat
belt and motioned to Johnny to do the same in the narrow metal fold-out chair
at her feet.  The other man climbed into the cockpit, donned a helmet and
headphones, and raised the chopper into the air.

Joe, the nurse, picked up a clipboard and fished through
the air for the pen attached to it by a string. 

“I need some information, Ma’am” he said.  “Your
name is Suzi, right?”

“Suzanne, actually,” she answered.  “With a z and
two
n’s
.”

“Last name?”

“C – U – E,” she spelled out.

In all caps of the same height, slanting slightly to the
right, Joe filled in her name.  Age, date of birth, social security
number, address, phone number, and drug allergies came next.

“Religious preference?”

“Protestant.” 

“Insurance?”

“Duck & Beagle.”

“Member number?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you have your card with you?”

“It’s in my purse, which is still in the plane.”

“We’ll need that number as soon as possible.”

Listening to the exchange, Johnny was getting more and
more irritated, even as Suzi maintained a calm indulgence.  If Joe wasn’t
going to do anything to help her, he could at least leave her alone to
rest.  When he started pushing for the insurance information, Johnny
couldn’t take any more.

“Don’t worry about the insurance, Joe.  I will pay
the bill personally if need be.  I have the means,” he stated firmly.

“I have to ask for the information, sir.”

“All right.  Now you have asked, so can we move
on?” 

 “Emergency contact?”

“Ashe,” Suzi answered.

“Would that be Cue, as well?”

“Yes.”

“Contact’s phone number?”

“It’s the first speed dial on my phone.  I don’t
know the number.”

“Where’s your phone?” Joe asked, looking around the
stretcher to see if personal items had been set down somewhere.

“In my purse.  On the plane.  I didn’t bring
it.  There was no signal, anyway.”

“Is there anyone else that you do know the number?”

Suzi shook her head.  “These days, the phone
remembers everything for you.”

Joe smiled.  “I guess it does.  So do you take
any medications?”

Fighting through a thick, achy head, Suzi slowly listed
her meds while Joe wrote them down in all caps. 
Levothyroxin
. 
Lyrica
. 
Wellbutrin
. 
Acetaminophen with codeine.

Medical conditions?  Low thyroid. 
Fibromyalgia.  Migraines.  Previous surgeries?  Broken left
ankle.  Complete hysterectomy.

Johnny squirmed in his seat, at least as much as the
narrowness of the seat and the constraint of the seat belt would allow. 
This was far too personal, it embarrassed him to be privy to such intimate
information.  But, he supposed the nurse had to ask and Suzi didn’t seem to
mind at all.  Still, he averted his eyes, he reckoned it was the least he
could do.

Taking her vitals again, Joe wrote down the time and
measurements, then slid the clipboard into a bracket mounted inside the
helicopter shell for just such a purpose.  Suzi seized the opportunity.

“Could I maybe have something for the pain?”

Surprised, Johnny looked up at the nurse.  He’d
just assumed Joe had given her something in the drip; it was pretty obvious
that she was in a good deal of pain.  Debating whether to insert himself
into the situation, Joe responded before he’d come to a decision.

“Let me call and see,” he said, as he picked up a
radiophone from its cradle on the side of the helicopter.  Whoever was on
the other end asked a litany of questions, which Joe patiently answered and
then he hung up.  Fishing through an organized box of labeled vials and
plastic-encased pills, he selected a small vial, drew its contents into a
syringe, and pushed it into Suzi’s IV.

“That should help,” he said, as he retrieved the
clipboard and noted the dose and time.

“Thank you,” Suzi answered with a sigh, the relief
already cursing through her veins.  She visibly relaxed and, as though she
had not a care in the world, she fell fast asleep.

Johnny, on the other hand, was not so carefree. 
For the first time, Suzi’s face was relatively pain free, but she was still
pale, and she laid awkwardly towards the right, attempting to ease the pressure
on her left side.  The nurse sat silently in his seat, watching Suzi,
pumping up the blood pressure cuff, taking her pulse periodically,
recording
each set of readings.  Johnny was used to
waiting, for hours on end, casting his line repeatedly if necessary, but he
didn’t like this kind of waiting; Suzi would wake to her pain and memories and
there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.  Laying his head back,
he tried to sleep, but, that being impossible, he spent the entire flight
fidgeting and bouncing one knee or the other.

After what seemed an eternity, the helicopter landed on
the roof of the Anchorage hospital and Suzi was transferred to a small room in
the ER.  The jostling woke her, the pain returned immediately to her face,
involuntary grunts escaped her here and there.  Johnny waited outside the
room while the nurses put Suzi in a gown and hooked her up to a number of
gadgets, each with its own cable resulting in its own colored number or graphic
on a machine.  Within a few minutes, the nurses streamed out of the room
and told him he could now go in.  Suzi’s eyes were closed, squeezed
against the distress caused by all the activity.  On the far wall were two
chairs; he walked around the gurney and lowered himself into the one closest to
Suzi.  When she heard him, her eyes fluttered open.

“They’re going to do a bunch of tests,” she said. 
“It will take quite a while.  I really appreciate all you’ve done, but you
don’t have to wait with me.  I’ll be okay.”

He’d known her only a few hours, but was convinced that
she really would be okay if left on her own.  However, though she
possessed an obvious inner strength, it was combined with a simple
vulnerability that was unnerving.

“I’m sure you would be,” he replied.  “But I can’t
get back until the chopper goes again and I’d feel better seeing that you’re
taken care of.  You’re just visiting here, right?  So you don’t have
any family or friends in Anchorage?”

“I couldn’t find anyone that wanted to come with me,”
she said, shaking her head.  “I guess they knew something that I didn’t!”

Relief flooded over Johnny as he finally felt confident
to ask the question that had been hanging over him.  “You didn’t know
anyone on the plane?”

“No.  It was a couple from...somewhere in the
Midwest...and the pilot.”

Neither spoke as they considered the three people who had
so recently lost their lives.  Johnny, who had been staring at the floor,
looked up to see a tear leak from Suzi’s eye and slip down her cheek.  The
rugged fisherman could easily survive for weeks at the very ends of the earth,
traverse the steepest ridge to find just the right fishing spot, and bring in a
fish of several hundred pounds from out of a rushing river, but he avoided a
weeping woman at all cost.  He would be unable to speak or act as long as
her tears fell, but, to his relief, the single tear was also the only
tear.  With the passing of the storm (and disaster averted for Johnny),
the dark shadow of pain fell across her face once more.

“Let’s see if we can get you something more for the
pain,” he said, rising.  “I’ll be right back.”

With a good deal of wrangling, Johnny finally got a
doctor to prescribe a pain med and, once that was done, a nurse immediately
administered it through Suzi’s IV.  He was glad he’d taken the initiative
since she spent the afternoon being poked, prodded, x-rayed, and scanned, with
long periods of waiting in between.  Everyone who came in the room assumed
that Johnny was ‘the husband,’ and after a while, he stopped correcting them;
he even started responding to ‘Mr. Cue.’  Now and then someone seemed to
recognize him, but, checking the name, finding it to be ‘Cue,’ they visibly
shook off the feeling and went about their business.