Читать книгу Troop 402 - Donald Ph.D. Ladew - Страница 4

FLT 402 to Seattle almost escaped with nothing more than the loss of its wings and engines, but the forest was dense and their luck ran out against the base of a massive Douglas fir. The trees which ripped the wings from the plane saved the lives of the passengers but could not save the lives of Captain Peter Duckhorn and First officer Neilsen.

The flight cabin was crushed halfway back to the door into the passenger area. In the air a plane will bend and flex, withstand enormous stress, but on the ground, at speed, they are flimsier than the average Detroit automobile. They will not withstand impact with trees.

Had the trees which ripped the wings off failed to slow the plane, none of the passengers would have survived.

The last sound of a piece of baggage falling from the overhead competed only with the sound of the wind and the rain. The passengers were for the moment beyond screams or groans or verbal protest.

Alvin opened his eyes and looked around, surprised and very much alive. His seat had broken loose and he was hanging a foot from the floor held by the seat belt. He was unharmed, not a scratch. The seat holding his back pack had held. It was the first thing he looked for.

He unbuckled the belt and tumbled to the deck of the plane on his knees. He pushed the seat aside and stood in the aisle looking toward the rear of the plane. It was a jumbled mess. Seats were askew, all the luggage compartments had been emptied, and panels hung every which way. Many of the port hole-like windows had popped out from the twisting of the airframe. The rain was loud against the fuselage.

Tony Genoa sat bent over in his seat his head resting against the back of the seat in front of his. He took deep, desperate breaths. Were they to be his last? He didn't know.

"Mr. Genoa...Tony, are you all right?" Alvin shook his shoulder gently, then rougher.

Tony looked up at Alvin. "Are we alive, boy?"

"Yes, sir, we are. You don't look good sir, are you injured?"

"No...no, I don't think so. I have a heart condition. Where's my jacket...my pills." He tried to get up.

"You just sit tight, Mr. Genoa, I'll look."

Alvin found his jacket under the seats and felt around for Tony's medicine.

"Here it is, sir. How many should you take?"

"Just one."

"Do you need water?" Alvin asked.

"No." He took the pill from Alvin and swallowed it. "I'll be all right, son. Just give me a few minutes."

"Okay, but look, you better get ready to leave as soon as you can. I smell gas. I'm going back and see what happened to Miss Willis and the other guy." Alvin wouldn't call him Mr. America.

He had to climb over seats and push broken pieces of the interior aside. He found McChesney sitting in the aisle, looking at his hands in disbelief. He didn't notice Alvin.

"I'm alive! I made it." He thought he was still in his seat and turned to tell Sherry. She was gone and her seat with her. He frowned, unable to understand.

"Where's Miss Willis?" Alvin had to shout to get McChesney's attention. He finally answered.

"I don't know, she was right here. I don't get it. She was holding my hand, I remember."

Shock, Alvin thought. He heard a groan further aft. Sherry Willis, still strapped to her chair had been thrown to the rear of the plane near the food service area. The seat was over on its side and Miss Willis was semi-conscious, blood coming from a bruise on her forehead.

Alvin pushed seats and trash out of the way, unhooked her from the seat and stretched her out with a blanket under her head. Always at the back of his mind was the danger of fire.

He snapped his fingers nervously as he recalled what to do about head injury.

Her eyes fluttered open then closed. She groaned then winced. Alvin checked her pulse concentrating on the count. It was a little fast, but strong.

What am I going to do? he thought. I've got to get everybody out of here.

He made his way back to the front of the plane. McChesney was still where Alvin left him, sitting in the aisle looking down at his body.

He found Tony at the front of the plane with an arm full of blankets trying to open the forward passenger door. He was cursing because the door wouldn't open.

"What am I doing wrong, Alvin? I don't have my glasses, I can't read the damn instructions."

"Right, let me have a look." He pulled a flash light from one of the many pockets in his jacket, shone it on the door and in two seconds had the door open. When he did, the emergency exit chute opened automatically, shot out, hit the ground and bounced into a tree then folded back covering the door.

"Great. Something tells me this thing wasn't designed to be opened in the middle of a forest," Tony laughed cheerfully.

"Can you climb down, Tony? Wait a minute, do you have a rain coat?"

"Yeah, in the overhead."

"Okay, stay here, I'll be right back."

Old people catch cold easy, Alvin remembered. I have to make sure he stays warm and dry.

Alvin made his way back to Tony's seat, climbed up and began opening luggage bins, those that hadn't already torn free and dumped their contents into the cabin. He found the old man's raincoat, and a muffler. He remembered Tony had a hat and looked around for it. He found Tony's Borsalino on the floor and his glasses case in a seat pocket. He took the coat, hat and glasses back to the front of the cabin and helped him put them on.

"I'm going to help you get out, okay?"

He smiled. "I'm okay, Alvin, don't worry. Let's do it."

They pushed the slide out of the way Tony eased himself down it, on his seat. It was only four feet and he was on the ground.

"Find a place nearby where you're out of the rain, somewhere under a tree, okay?"

"Sure, I'll be all right. You go get the others out. I'll be nearby."

Alvin nodded and went back into the wreckage. When he got to the back of the plane, McChesney was still sitting on the floor, only now he was carefully feeling his arms, legs, the rest of his body. Alvin knelt in front of him.

"Mister, can you see me," he shouted.

McChesney frowned, looked at him. "Of course I can see you, I'm not blind?"

"Miss Willis is hurt. I can't carry her. You've got to help me."

McChesney stared at him blankly. Alvin couldn't stop the anger. Here was this...giant and he wouldn't help. He punched McChesney as hard as he could.

"Damn you, wake up. I've got to get her out of the plane, it could blow up...don't you smell the gas?"

McChesney still stared at him. Alvin hit him again.

"What word did you not understand! Mr. Stupid. Mr. Useless Coward!"

Mr. America woke him up. "Hey, quit punching me ya little runt, what did you say?"

"Miss Willis is hurt, back there. We've got to get her out of the plane. I smell gas everywhere. I can't lift her."

McChesney looked genuinely concerned and struggled to his feet. He swayed for a moment, looked around. He shook himself. He didn't know what was wrong, he felt fuzzy-headed, out of contact.

Alvin moved to the rear of the plane. "Back here, c'mon, hurry."

McChesney finally sensed Alvin's urgency and followed him back to where Sherry lay on the deck. He knelt to pick her up.

"Be careful, she has a head injury."

Alvin followed McChesney back through the plane shouting instructions all the way. He made him wait by the door while he found a blanket and together they wrapped it around her and covered her head.

Alvin leaned out the door. "Mr. Genoa, where are you?" He shined the flashlight around the area.

"On my way." They heard his voice through the trees. He pushed the folds of the slide out of the way and stood near the door.

"Is she all right?"

"I don't know. She banged her head. I'm going to give you the flashlight. Find a place out of the rain and make sure she stays dry. I got another flashlight in my pack. I'll get it and my camping stuff. Don't go too far."

"Okay. Don't you stay in that plane, boy. The smell of gas is real strong."

"I won't."

Tony led McChesney off into the woods. Alvin watched them for a moment and wished he were big and strong so he could carry Miss Willis. He didn't dwell on it. There were a thousand things to do and he had to remember them all.

The thought that he would forget some important thing, something that would help them survive gnawed at him constantly.

First get the pack, find a fallen tree, make a shelter, get a fire going. She has to be kept warm. I must not forget anything!

The interior of the plane was dark except for light from the occasional bolt of lightning. The door to the flight deck was buckled. He looked at it and understood too easily what must have happened. He told himself he would go back as soon as he had the others safe.

Alvin struggled to get the pack over his shoulder and the straps locked in place. Before he left he filled his arms with blankets and zipped three of the small airline pillows inside his jacket.

Outside it was raining so hard he couldn't smell the forest. He wanted to smell the forest. It was a known thing, familiar, comforting.

"Mr. Genoa, shine your light."

Fifty yards ahead he saw a light waving about. When he reached them the three survivors were huddled under the branches of a huge fir.

"Are you all right, Mr. Genoa?" Alvin put his hand over his heart unconsciously.

"I'm fine son. I don't have to take that stuff very often and it works pretty good."

"Great. How's Miss Willis?" They had her propped against the base of the tree with the blankets covering her. McChesney was standing nearby, shivering.

She looked up from under the blankets. She tried to smile. "I'm okay, Alvin. I could sure use an aspirin."

"Darn, of course, I should have thought of that. I’ve got to remember." He struggled out of his pack. McChesney made no effort to help.

Alvin dug around in the pack and came out with a first-aid kit. "How many? I think two now, and two more in an hour. You shouldn't take too many until we know if you have a concussion."

"You're the doctor, Alvin."

He smiled shyly. "I wish I was. Just hold them for a minute, I'll see if I can find water." Before he left Alvin removed a hatchet from his pack.

"What's the matter, kid, afraid you'll meet up with a bear?" McChesney said.

Alvin ignored him. He took a deep metal pot from the pack, part of a set of four, and walked off into the trees.

McChesney grumbled. "We should have stayed in the plane. If it was going to catch fire it would have done it by now."

Alvin found a newly formed brook within fifty feet of where he left the others. He filled the pot and set it down near the brook. A crash of lightning speared down into the forest nearby and he glimpsed a large fallen fir tree another fifty yards up toward higher ground.

He nodded as he ticked off one of the key items on his internal `to do’ list. From his pocket he removed a metal tobacco can and dug out half a dozen inch long plastic rods. He selected one, bent it into the shape of a `U' and let it snap free. The plastic rod immediately gave off a pale yellow glow.

They had been his own idea. He'd found them in a sporting goods store in the golf section. They had these special golf balls with a hole drilled through the center. The promo said they could be used in the dark. He tried them out and they worked a treat.

He wedged the glowing plastic rod on a tree near the brook, crossed to the other side, shut his flashlight off and looked back. Sure enough there it was plainly visible like a firefly in the dark.

Alvin moved up hill as fast as he could toward the downed tree. It was a big northern spruce and it hadn't been down long because the limbs were still green and thick.

"Great, this will be perfect. I can make a shelter big enough for all of us."

He snapped another one of the glowing markers and placed it in a tree near the fallen spruce.

Back at the stream he picked up the pot and made his way back to the others, stopping along the way to mark another tree. When he got there McChesney was still grumbling about having to stand in the rain.

Tony looked at him with disgust. He took the pot of water from Alvin and helped Sherry drink.

"Thanks, Mr. Genoa. I'm going to be all right, really."

"Tony, Miss Sherry, I've found a place where I can make us a shelter. Soon as I get it built, I'll get a fire going. I'm sorry it's taking so long, I'll go as fast as I can."

"You're doing fine, Alvin. Don't worry about us, we can wait until you finish," Sherry said.

"What are you going to do, kid, rub two trees together?"

"Hey, hulk, put a sock in it. If you're too lazy to contribute to the motion don't get in the way," Tony growled.

"Please...please, we have to work together." Sherry tried to calm things down.

"Sorry, Miss Willis," Alvin apologized. "Tony, if you could get that slide free from the aircraft I could cut it up into sheets. It's water proof, make a great covering for a shelter."

"Good idea. Have you got a tool kit in that pack? Hell there ought to be you've got everything else in there. As a matter of fact are you sure you don't have an RV in there?"

"Sorry, I forgot." Alvin rummaged around and came out with a canvas bag. There was a universal screw driver, a Swiss army knife, a pair of industrial scissors, and adjustable wrench.

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "You're a pistol, Alvin."

Alvin showed him how the markers worked. "Put one of these where you can see them every ten yards or so. They should last the rest of the night."

"Mr. McChesney, would you please see that Miss Willis stays dry and keep her as warm as you can." He snapped his fingers and paced back and forth. "A person with a head injury must be kept warm."

"Okay, kid."

Alvin frowned. "I'm not, kid, my name is Alvin Stanford Thomas."

"Okay, kid," McChesney laughed at his joke. No one else did.

Alvin moved off into the trees. He thought of his father, heard his voice clearly. Don't waste time on fools, son, you got better things to do with your time.

It didn't take long to reached the fallen tree. He hung the flashlight near by and went to work on the branches along the under side. He was sweating and weary but he kept working, cutting a room underneath the tree, piling the branches outside on both sides making a thicker roof.

The limbs he left uncut formed the walls, but to make sure it didn't squash flat he cut two stout branches with vee shaped notches on one end and wedged them under the trunk of the tree.

In an hour he had cut a room ten feet long and five feet wide and with the extra branches on top very little water was coming through. He cleaned the floor right down to the ground at the lower end, then went to the brook and brought back a half a dozen rocks for a fireplace.

He looked at his creation with satisfaction. "If I can put pieces from the slide over it, it should dry out fast with a fire."

He made his way tiredly back to the tree where he'd left the others. When he got there Tony was sitting down leaning against the tree.

Alvin knelt by him. "Are you okay, should you take another pill? What's the matter?"

"Take it easy, Mr. Dynamo. I'm okay, I'm just having a little trouble getting my breath."

Alvin looked at him for a moment then snapped both fingers. "Right, of course. Darn, I'm really stupid. I'm sorry, it's my fault. We're probably up over eight, nine thousand feet, the air's thinner up here."

"You're probably right. Anyhow, I got three large pieces of the slide, and there's lot's more if we need it."

"Great! Thanks, Tony. I've made us a shelter. I think we should go there now. I'll make a fire and some tea."

"That sounds great, Alvin," Sherry said.

"Can you walk, ma'am?"

"Sure, it's not far is it?"

"No, not far. Mr. McChesney, would you carry the pieces of canvas. Tony has a heart condition, I don't think he should be carrying stuff like that." Alvin was learning.

McChesney grumbled. "Why didn't you say so, I could have gotten the canvas in the first place."

No one reminded him that all he'd done since the crash was bitch.

Alvin led the way to the shelter. He'd cut a large door at the lower end. Inside, Sherry spread her blankets out on the ground and sat down wearily. Tony went inside and sat with her.

"Mr. McChesney, I'm going around to the other side, if you'll throw the canvas over the top we can spread it over the shelter."

When they were done Alvin put branches on top to hold the pieces of canvas in place. Inside he hung his flash light from a branch and set his pack to one side. He was so tired he could hardly stand. From the ground he gathered the driest pine needles and small sticks and made a small pile in the center of the rocks.

He had to go back out into the rain to find bigger branches which he broke up into the right size. Still grumbling, McChesney followed him and came back dragging an entire dead tree and set about breaking off branches.

Alvin dug into his pack again and came out with another of a seemingly endless supply of tin boxes. This one contained cotton balls, wooden survival matches, and two large cans of lighter fluid. He took a half dozen of the cotton balls and stuck them among the pine needles and sticks. Then he squirted lighter fluid on the cotton balls and lit the cotton balls with one of the matches. The whole pile caught fire instantly.

Alvin spent a half hour feeding it with larger and large branches until he had a fine fire going. The wood steamed and gave off a lot of smoke but it showed no signs of dying out. The inside of their shelter was already beginning to warm up.

"That was incredible, Alvin. You make it look easy," Sherry said.

"My Dad taught me. He's the best forest ranger in all of Idaho. I'm going down to the brook and get some water. I've got a box of tea bags in here somewhere."

Alvin forced himself to stay awake until he'd made tea for everyone. He gave his sleeping bag to Sherry, rolled up in his blanket and went to sleep immediately.

McChesney fed the fire for a while Tony had rolled onto the ground with a blanket, a small pillow from the plane and fallen asleep as quickly as Alvin.

McChesney was dead tired but he couldn't get his mind off the terrifying flight and the crash. And he still heard the boy's voice from the plane calling him a coward. No one had called him a coward since he'd been a little boy. He didn't think he was a coward, but he had acted like one, hadn't he? It didn't help that the little kid knew how to do everything, had taken charge when he should have been the one calling the shots.

No one had mentioned the pilot and copilot but somehow each of them knew. Maybe that's why the kid won't sleep in the plane, McChesney thought. He crawled to the back of the shelter, curled up on the ground and slept. His last thought was trying not to think about what happened to the front of the plane. He dreamed, fearful things.

Three hours later, the storm still pounding the forest, Alvin woke. He was tired, even so he smiled with satisfaction. He'd always been able to wake whenever he wanted just by putting the time he wanted to wake in his thoughts before he slept.

The fire had burned down to coals and it was getting cold in the shelter again. He looked at Sherry and Tony. She had snuggled up to Tony's side and both of them were sleeping easily. He ignored McChesney.

Alvin did not know how to forgive easily.

He stoked up the fire as quietly as he could keeping an eye on the others. He needn't have worried, they were out for the rest of the night. He got a note book and pencil from his pack and began listing the things he should do.

Plan, son, his father said. When your leg's busted and the bear's ready to eat you, plan. Plan for the moment, then plan for the next and the next until the leg heals and the bear goes off to eat the guy who didn't plan. Don't be one of those guys who says, I wish I'd thought of that, be the guy who did think of it.

His handwriting wasn't that good so he printed, large square letters.

"Supplies: Food and water; stay warm, stay calm. Check plane. Get everything useful off plane.

"Where are we? Spruce and Douglas fir, nothing like the Sawtooth Range. Must be over five thousand feet. Canada? Rescue? Dad says, don't wait, make it happen.

"The Pilot and Copilot: What do I do?"

Alvin put his tool kit in his pocket, strapped his axe and a large multi-purpose hunting knife around his waist.

I will get all the luggage first, then...still he sat by the fire. He didn't want to go back. What he wanted was to go back to sleep.

C'mon, Al, don't be a lazy bones, get moving.

He put the note book back in the pack and headed out into the rain. The thunder and lightning weren't nearly as bad. Through the trees he saw one of his light sticks and smiled with satisfaction. He followed the lights back to the plane.

At the door he saw where Tony had cut up the escape chute. There was still plenty left. He remembered the luggage handlers opening a door on the other side of the plane and made his way around to where he thought the door should be.

The door had burst open and the few bags had broken lose from their restraints and scattered over the ground. Sections of the skin of the plane had been peeled back and torn. One piece about five feet long and three feet wide had wedged in the crook of a smaller tree. He stared at it thinking hard.

Yeah, I can make a sled.

He pulled it down and began beating the sharp edges with the back of his ax. It was thin and easy to work. He wondered how anything so thin could hold a plane in the air. In the cargo bay there were straps.

Yes, I can cut those and make a handle to pull the sled. Neat!

When he had it shaped the way he wanted he attached the straps and loaded all the luggage on board. The trees around the plane were thick and it took a while to pull the sled around to the other side of the plane, but he didn't think about time, only the task.

Alvin spent another hour removing all the luggage that had been on the plane and emptying out the kitchen area in the rear. He found a large combination survival/first aid kit. There was even a fire ax. From the galley he removed every container, plastic dishes, a package of sandwiches, fruit and a box containing small bottles of liquor.

Every time he went to the front of the plane he looked toward the door to the cockpit. Mercifully it had remained closed, but he knew there was something awful behind it. He knew he had to open that door.

Not yet, he thought, I don't need to do that yet. First I'll get this stuff to the camp.

Outside, he pulled on his make-shift handle. The load was almost too heavy to move and he grunted with effort. It seemed to take forever to haul the makeshift sled through the forest to their shelter. There was no way he could move in a straight line, the forest was too dense.

At the shelter he sat heavily too tired to move. Tony came out and helped him inside.

"Sit down, Alvin, take a break. I'll make you a cup of tea." He had the fire up heating a pot of water. "Did you leave anything in the plane? Looks like you got it all."

Alvin tried to catch his breath. "We'll need it. Can you help me get it inside?"

"Sure...you just sit and catch your breath. I'll have tea made in a minute. You don't have to do it all, you know."

He looked out the makeshift door at the forest. He thought it was getting lighter on his trip back from the plane.

Alvin looked at his watch: 6:15 in the morning. It was the neatest watch in the whole world. His father had given it to him for his last birthday. It told the phases of the moon, the world's time zones, it even had a built in compass, and attached to the strap was a miniature calculator. He had studied the manual for it until he'd memorized every function.

He drank the tea and got a dried food bar from his pack. He gave one to Tony who was bringing the luggage into the shelter.

"What do you think we should do, Alvin? Do you think any one knows where we are?" Tony asked.

"I don't know, I think we're pretty far north. When I was in the plane I saw a compartment full of electronic equipment, it had all burned up. You remember when we got hit by lightning, it might have happened then. Somebody might know we're down but I doubt they know we're this far north."

Alvin drank the rest of the tea and finished off the fruit bar. "My father says don't count on being found if you're lost. It might happen, but don't count on it. We have to wait out the storm then get clear of this forest...look around. Anyway, we could be here a long time so we better start figuring how to survive. Four people need a lot of food."

"Not me. I used to love to eat when I was a young fella, now I don't like the taste of things so good...besides it wouldn't hurt me to lose a few pounds."

"I'm going back to the plane, Tony. There's a lot of things we might need and I don't want to leave here until I'm sure I've got everything useful. Did you take your medicine?"

"Jeez, what a nag. You're worse than my son. I don't need to take one for another couple hours, anyway I need to make them last until you find us a Denny's and a drugstore."

Alvin laughed. "Which one do you want me to find first?"

"The Denny's. I want a cup of coffee and some sweet rolls."

"We've got plenty of stuff for coffee, I found it in the galley."

Sherry sat up, groaned and held her head.

Tony moved to her side and took her hand. "Are you okay, Miss?"

"I have an awful headache...otherwise not too bad. I was dreaming and I thought I heard someone say doughnuts."

"That was me. Sorry we woke you. You go back to sleep if you like, we'll be quiet."

"No, that's all right."

Alvin brought her aspirin and a cup of tea. "Here, you take these, I'll give you some more in a little while. Are you dizzy at all?"

"No, just a little headache."

"How's your eyesight, is your vision blurred?" He tapped his fingers against his side nervously as he tried to remember everything he learned in first aid class.

"He's such a nag. I'm glad he's got you to worry about, maybe he'll lay off me for a while," Tony laughed.

Sherry reached out and touched Alvin's arm gently. "I can see fine, Al, and what I see is a tired Alvin Thomas who ought to take a rest and let us help for a while."

"Oh, I'm alright. I don't think you have a concussion. Can you tell me if the plane had any emergency supplies on board, you know, in case there was a crash?"

"Oh, yes, of course, all airplanes are required to have them. There's a door in the floor of the galley, everything's stored down below."

Alvin got up to leave.

"Do you have to leave now? Can't you get some rest first?"

Alvin looked toward the rear of the shelter. "No I want to get it done before steroid brains wakes up." Tony chuckled and Sherry frowned.

In the back of the shelter, Prince McChesney closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

Alvin grabbed the tow rope and hauled the aluminum sled off through the forest. It was getting lighter. Rain was still falling, more like a heavy mist, but the worst of the storm was definitely over.

Back at the shelter Tony and Sherry talked quietly. "You know what he's going to do, don't you," Tony asked.

"No...I mean, what he said, I guess, get more things from the plane."

"Yeah, he's going to do that, but he's also got to do something about the pilot and copilot. I'm beginning to get a feel for our leader." He chuckled sadly. "Somewhere that boy learned responsibility...and he learned it a long time before most of us do. There's no way he'll leave until he's done something about them."

"Oh, he mustn't...it'll...it could be terrible. It shouldn't be something a boy has to do."

"Did you know them, you know, the pilot and copilot?"

"Yes, Captain Duckhorn was very nice, always helpful and Mr. Neilsen, the Navigator, he worried about everything."

"Not any more," Tony said grimly.