Johnny Winchester: River Hunter (8 page)

“It was perfect.  Not a cloud in the sky. 
Manning said the wind was more mild than usual and that he didn’t need his
instruments to fly the plane.  Said that he went through this vortex thing
all the time and we’d be out of it in a few minutes, then the instruments would
be back on line.

“But they didn’t come back and then the engine cut
out.  Lou started reciting some prayer and Edna started screaming. 
Manning pushed and pulled every button and flipped every switch, but the engine
wouldn’t start again and the plane was going down.  I saw the trees come
up at us and felt the plane hit something, then it started pitching around.
 And then Edna stopped screaming.”

Suzi and Johnny could have used a minute to contemplate
Edna’s fate, but Mr. Bass was all business.

“Were you knocked out?” he asked.

“I don’t think so, just stunned and trying to get a grip
on what had happened.  We landed on the belly, but we were tilted, against
a big rock.  Nose down, I think.”

“What did you do?”

“I was pretty panicked and the only thing I could think
about was getting out of the plane, thinking it might catch on fire.  I
called for Manning, but got no answer.  All the windows on my side were
broken out, so I managed to reach through the window and get the pilot’s door
open from the outside.  The only way I could get out was to move
Manning.  I managed to undo his seat belt, but had to push him out the
door with my feet so I could get out.”

Mr. Bass nodded knowingly again.  “Manning wasn’t
conscious?”

“He was dead.”

“How did you know that?”

Pausing, she swallowed hard.  “His face and neck
were slashed.  Blood was everywhere, it had been spurting from his neck,
but it had stopped.  There wasn’t much doubt.”

“What did you do next?”

“It was way more effort than I realized and I had to sit
down for a while because I was dizzy.  Once it passed, I thought I should
check on Lou and Edna.  I suppose you want to know how I knew they were
dead, too. (Mr. Bass nodded.)  It was all I could do to make myself go
back in that plane, but I felt I had to.  My left arm was useless, so it
took me a while to climb back in.  I couldn’t find a pulse for Lou. 
Blood was coming out of his nose and ears and his head hung really weird. 
I think his neck was broken.  The whole right side of Edna’s head was
sheered
off, part of her brain was missing.  There was
no way she was still alive.”

“What did you do next?” he asked as he furiously wrote
down everything she said.

She wanted to stop, to catch her breath, to not talk
about this, to get the visuals out of her mind before she had to go on. 
Apparently, that was not to be.

“I crawled back out of the plane, crawled over Manning,
and sat down again to rest and try to collect myself.  I don’t know how
long I sat there, but at some point, I noticed the sound of running water, so I
walked towards it.  I went back to get Manning’s jacket, just in
case.  I had to take it off him; it was horrible.  Anyway, the water
I’d heard was a river and I figured my best chance was to follow it downstream,
thinking there might be a town, or at least someone hunting or fishing. 

“All I remember after that is trying to walk as far as I
could, then it got dark and cold.  I huddled under some bushes and slept
off and on.  When the sun came up, I started walking again.  I don’t
remember lying down on the beach where Johnny found me.”

Hoping she was done, she emitted a small sigh of relief. 
Of course, Mr. Bass might have more questions, but as long as he didn’t want
more details on the pilot and passengers, she thought she could handle it.

Johnny sat quietly through the whole story and when it
was done, he was sure he hadn’t needed to hear all the details.  The
others had died, he was well aware, but he didn’t have any particular mental
picture of them, until now.  How Suzi could have kept her composure over
the last few days, having seen such sights, was beyond him.  Wondering how
she could even have survived such a crash, he reached out and took her right
hand, squeezing it protectively.

“I have one last question,” Mr. Bass said.  “Can
you describe the engine failing?  Did it sputter for a while, or start
missing before it failed?”

Thinking for only a moment, she replied, “It was
absolutely fine, and then it sputtered maybe a time or two, then it
just...stopped.”

Mr. Bass turned to Johnny.  “I’ve interviewed the
other members of your party, so I don’t think I need any more information from
you.  Unless there’s something particular you feel you need to tell
me.”  Johnny shook his head, so Mr. Bass turned back to look at Suzi.
 “Thank you Ms. Cue, I know this was very difficult for you and I
appreciate your willingness to give such detail.  It is very
helpful.  And I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

Suzi focused on her useless left hand, lying in her lap,
as Johnny and Mr. Bass both stood, shook hands, and said good-bye.

“Can I have a really big cup of hot chocolate before we
go back?” she asked as Johnny sat down again.

“Absolutely,” he answered and flagged down the
waiter.  He related her order exactly as she had said it.  While they
waited for the hot chocolate, which, when it arrived, was in an extra-large
mug, they were both silent.  After struggling with himself, he flagged
down the waiter again and ordered a shot of single malt whiskey.  The
order elicited a sly smile from Suzi, which warmed his heart.  The staff
seemed to sense that something was wrong and, though the waiter stood nearby
should he be needed, they left the two of them alone.  The hot chocolate
was sipped and the whiskey downed in silence and then they started back to the
room, also in silence.  Johnny had her by the elbow and she leaned heavily
on his arm as she shuffled along.  She had been doing so much better, but
now he worried that she was right back where she’d been the last time they
walked down this hallway.

When they reached the door, Johnny slid the key in the
lock and pushed the door open.  He held it while Suzi went in, under her
own power, then followed her, staying in the tiny foyer to make sure the door
closed all the way.  The click of the lock sounded, he set the extra
security lock, turned go into the room, and then he stopped dead.

Standing in the middle of the room, her face buried in
her one good hand, Suzi was sobbing uncontrollably, almost inaudibly, but for
the short, rapid gasps that were all her fractured ribs would allow. 
Johnny stood still, wanting to take away all her pain, both the injuries and
the memories, wishing he knew what to do.  But rational thought failed
him, so he decided to go with his instincts.  He went to her, folded his
hand over hers, taking it from her face, wet with tears, holding it tightly to
his chest.  Gently, he wrapped his other arm around her, laying his hand
at the nape of her neck, so as not to jostle her shoulder, pulling her close to
him.  Laying her head on his shoulder, she melted against him, abandoning
herself to the emotion.  Laying his cheek softly on the top of her head,
he whispered, “I’m here.”

By the time she’d showered and dressed, Suzi was already
exhausted.  The fear of boarding a plane in only a few hours was eating at
her; she had thought that, since it would be a large jet, with more than one
engine, and probably no vortexes en route, it might cause a little angst, but
she had not expected her current level of distress.  Though the terror was
a problem, she simply had to hide her feelings from Johnny.

The hours since the NTSB interview had been both
intimate and tense.  Johnny’s warm, understanding embrace had given her a
sense of security she’d never felt from any man, and she didn’t know how long
she stayed within it.  When the tears were finally spent, the implications
of the situation struck her, so she pulled away.  And he had let her
go.  She’d gone to the bathroom to freshen up and when she’d come out,
Johnny was on his cell.  They both spent the rest of the day busying
themselves with this and that, went out to the dining room for dinner to
relieve the tension that was rising, and spent the evening watching TV, Johnny
had even ordered a movie.

The night was spent mostly awake, worrying over the
plane ride and trying to sort through her feelings for Johnny.  It was
imperative that she not fall apart again, risking more intimacy, and that she
not fall for Johnny.  She wasn’t about to give up her independence or risk
trusting any man and as far as Johnny was concerned, well, he was just a
sensitive man who had offered support, he was not Mr. Right, falling in love
with her.

Johnny wasn’t faring any better.  Holding Suzi
while her heart poured out all its emotions had touched a part of his own heart
he had not known existed.  It was a full twenty minutes before her tears
had dried, but it seemed like it was over far too quickly.  He had no idea
how long he would have stood there, holding her, but never would he hold her
longer than she wished, so, when she pulled away, he let her go.  When she
went into the bathroom, he knew he had to find something to distract him, to
break the bond he felt; it was, as he’d told himself before, transient and the
sooner it was gone the better.

His night was also spent mostly awake, listening to Suzi
fidget, worrying about what was on her mind, and trying to sort through his
feelings for her.  The instinct to protect her from her pain was strong,
but it was imperative that he not give in to it again, risking more intimacy,
and that he not fall for Suzi.  As a young man he’d chosen a life of
fishing, never looking back, and he wasn’t about to look back now. 
Besides, though Suzi was a remarkable woman, she had her family and clearly
valued her independence, she wasn’t likely to fall for a grizzly, wrung-out old
fisherman.

Now he stood in front of the closet, arranging the
baggage so it could all be handled by one person.

“Johnny?” he heard Suzi call from the room.  His
resolve faltered, he hesitated, bolstering it.

“Yes?”

“Did you already pack everything?”

“Yes, I did.  What do you need?” he asked, walking
into the room.

Suzi was sitting on the edge of the bed, her socks and
sneakers were on her feet, but the laces were untied.

“I thought I’d wear my sneakers because they’re best for
walking, but I can’t tie them.”

Chuckling, he sat on the bed opposite her, lifted her
foot, rested it on his knee, and tied the laces.  Then he did the other
shoe.

“There,” he said, patting the side of her foot before
putting it down.  “All fixed.”  It was the closest they had been
since after the interview the day before and avoiding eye contact wasn’t really
an option.  “Are you all right?” he asked, seeing the fear in her eyes.

“I don’t much want to get on that plane,” she admitted.

“It’s not likely for you to be in two crashes in the
same week,” he pointed out.

“That’s a very good rational argument, but my emotions
aren’t convinced.”

“I looked into the possibility of renting a car and
driving, but it’s over two thousand miles.”

“Of course you did,” she said, smiling.  “But
you’re right, it’s a long way.  I know I have to make myself do this, I
just wish it was behind me.  Besides, we all know that flying is safer
than driving.”

“There’s that pesky rational argument again.”

“Yup, and now that my shoes are tied, I have no more
excuses, so I guess we’d better go.”

“That’s the spirit!” he said, getting up, gathering the
baggage.

The trip to the airport went well, except for a somewhat
intense discussion at the hotel desk when Johnny insisted on paying her
bill.  She was tired and when she saw the long line at security, she went
directly to the first chair she could find and plopped down.  As Johnny
started to follow, a fan, recognizing him, stopped him and wanted to talk
fishing.  He glanced at Suzi every few seconds as he politely spoke with
the man, and was introduced to the wife and kids.  When he felt he’d been
adequately gracious, he insisted he had to take his leave, then sat next to
Suzi.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Just tired.  I don’t think I can stand in that
line without a rest,” she answered weakly.

Nodding, he rose and said, “Let me see what I can
do.  You just stay here and rest.”

He strode away, returning in the company of a short,
mostly-bald man clothed in a TSA uniform.  Johnny helped her out of the
chair, the TSA agent escorted them directly through security, then to a small
motorized cart waiting for them.  At the gate, Suzi found a chair close to
their boarding area and sat, exhausted, determined not to move an inch until
she had to.

  As fellow travelers wandered towards the gate,
many recognized Johnny and some stopped to talk to him; some with a sense of
awe, some competitively, some bragging, and some with such delirium they were
barely coherent.  And some of the fans were admiring women, who flirted
shamelessly and threw contemptuous glances at Suzi.

When the flight attendant came and told them it was time
to board, Suzi’s stomach knotted and her chest tightened.  She didn’t want
to do this; though she couldn’t decide whether she was more afraid of flying or
just responding badly in front of everyone.  But she did want to get home,
so she let Johnny help her down the
jetway
; when
Johnny stopped her in First Class, she protested.

“This isn’t my seat.”

“It is now,” he returned.  “When I changed your
reservation, I upgraded it.  I thought you’d be more comfortable. 
But don’t worry, I’m picking up the tab.”

Standing for a moment, she debated about continuing her
protest, then, remembering the ruckus at the hotel, she decided to drop
it.  Comfortable sounded good and she had the window seat on the left
which would keep the jostling of her arm to a minimum.  Sitting, Johnny
put on her seatbelt, got himself settled, and then they waited.  She tried
to watch the other passengers going by, lugging carry-on bags of every conceivable
type, squeezing down the aisle, to distract her, but nothing could stop the
churning of her stomach.