Spiral (The Salzburg Saga Book One)

by D. U. OKONKWO

  “I want to apologize for Hugh, for what he did. I need to speak to the others, too. Not to mention Emily, but they’re all asleep.”

  Jake kept his gaze on the ventilation hole. “And I told you before that it’s not your place to apologize. But either way, no apology will bring Ben Denny back. Or get us back to London.”

  “I know it. I –” Parker drew a deep breath but plowed on. “Hugh has…” He paused. “Issues that he’s… he’s dealing with.”

  Jake did turn then, widening his eyes in mock disbelief. “I never would have guessed.”

  Parker’s mouth tightened. “I don’t expect you to under–”

  “Hugh’s problem is Spoiled Brat Syndrome, coupled with a crippling low level of self-esteem.”

  Parker’s face flushed with anger. “Look–”

  “No, you look.” Jake’s face was hard; his eyes flat and unyielding. “Hugh had to try and prove himself in that cockpit. Apparently he couldn’t rest until he’d proved that he could fly the thing. I’m no psychologist, but I know that’s an issue of low self-esteem. That issue has got us into this mess.”

  Parker looked pained but he didn’t disagree. “There’s a reason for his low self-esteem.”

  “There always is,” he said with impatience, “but I don’t care what it is. I care that I’ve been in a plane crash and just about survived. I care that my friend didn’t. I care that a good friend is in pieces because she’s lost her husband due to no fault of hers. I care that I’m holding onto a very faint piece of hope that we make it out of here in one piece without anyone else getting hurt.” His voice was getting louder with his anger but Jake didn’t care. “Hugh should apologize for himself because he’s the one who got us into this mess, and you’re responsible for doing a lousy job of bringing him up with a decent level of self-esteem. Why don’t you apologize for that?” Parker flinched at his words, and Jake jerked his head in the direction of the other rooms in the cave. “Those lawyers won’t tell you this because you’re their big-wig client, but you’re not mine. I couldn’t care less if I never see you again. But you want to see the result of your parenting skills? Look at our current situation. Hugh’s got Ben’s blood on his hands, and so have you.”

  Parker had gone white. “You’ve said enough.” His voice shook.

  Jake was breathing heavily. “I haven’t even started.”

  “Quit while you’re ahead.” Parker’s free hand had clenched into a fist, and the arm in the sling seemed to be vibrating. “You don’t know anything about me or my boys.”

  Jake raked the older man with a scornful glance. “What I’ve seen so far is more than enough. The fact that you have a son who doesn’t give a rat’s ass who he hurts speaks volumes to me. Ben’s dead, and Hugh merely has a dodgy leg. You do the maths.” He started back toward his room. “Your sons aren’t people to be respected,” he tossed over his shoulder, “and neither are you.”

  He wouldn’t let the younger man’s animosity get to him, Parker told himself, even if shame and guilt burned a hole in his gut. Jake’s words had hit a nerve; several in fact. His gaze connected with the ventilation hole. “What’s the problem with the hole here?” he called out.

  With obvious reluctance, Jake stopped several feet away and turned to face him. “The candle needs lighting. I don’t have a lighter.”

  “Why does it need lighting? It’s warm enough in here.”

  “It’s not for heat, it’s for oxygen,” Jake explained with strained patience. “If the flame flickers for a long time, we’re in trouble. It’ll mean there’s no oxygen in here.” He arched a cynical brow. “Any suggestions?”

  “How about this?”

  Jake eyed the gold lighter Parker held up.

  “A smoke was the second thing I came out for.” Parker smiled; more to ease the tension he felt than to appease the younger man. “I hadn’t intended on smoking during the trip, but then I found myself sleeping on snow.”

  Jake walked back to him and took the offered lighter. Without ceremony he lit the candle. The flame initially flickered for a moment before strengthening and becoming steady. “Thanks. Good enough,” he murmured. He tossed the lighter back to Parker who deftly caught it. Jake then cleared the hole around the candle.

  Intrigued, Parker moved forward to inspect. “What are you doing now?”

  Jake stopped. “Drayton,” he warned. “I don’t like people breathing down my neck.”

  With a mutter, Parker stepped back. “What are you doing?” he repeated.

  “Making sure the hole is clear of debris,” Jake said shortly. “It’ll avoid carbon monoxide build up.”

  “Did Gwynne teach you all this stuff?”

  Jake turned and saw Parker’s admiration. “Yes. But all this stuff can also be found in good survival manuals.”

  “Maybe that’s where Justin learned about building snow caves.”

  Jake’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to discuss your toxic offspring, Drayton. It’s likely to bring on an ulcer.”

  “Jake–”

  “I’m done,” Jake stated. “And so is this conversation.”

  “If we want to get through this we have to all work together,” Parker stated. “I understand how you feel about Ben, about Hugh, and how Emily feels, and I’m sorry. More sorry than I can ever say.” Parker’s eyes were shadowed with remorse. “But we need to get through this. We can only do that together.”

  Jake shook his head in amazement. “Do you have any idea how cold it is out there?” He jerked his chin towards the cave entrance. “While we were digging this thing, I checked Emily’s thermometer. Minus seven, and that was three hours ago. It’s only getting colder.”

  “It’s warm in here.”

  “Snow caves are always warm, but the size of this thing will shrink a little each day; that’s what they do. We have no food, medical supplies are dwindling, and we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere. Plus, no one yet knows that we’re out here. Are you getting it yet?” Jake’s voice had risen steadily until he was almost shouting. With an effort he took a deep breath and fought to wrestle back his self-control before anger made him deck the older man where he stood. “Like I said,” he concluded softly as Parker stared at him with dawning horror, “this conversation is over.”

  “Enjoy your chat with Alpha Captain?” Justin derided as soon as Parker returned to their room.

  Having had three much-needed cigarettes, Parker moved stiffly past Justin who stood, body tense, at the entrance of their small room. Cold and on edge from being outside for over twenty minutes, Parker shivered. “Heard the pleasant conversation I had with Jake, did you?” He sat down on the edge of his sleeping platform and closed his eyes.

  “Every word.”

  Opening his eyes, Parker looked across to where Hugh laid across from them on his sleeping platform. Parker frowned. “I’d thought he’d woken up?” Hugh was breathing but shallowly.

  “He did, briefly, but Hugh’s never been one to leap willingly into solving a problem he created.”

  Parker threw Justin an annoyed look, then realized it probably went unnoticed in the dimness of the room. “That’s not very positive, Justin.”

  “Nothing I heard Alpha Captain say gave me reason to be.”

  “His name is Jake,” Parker said with a weary sigh. “Why are you calling him Alpha Captain? Show him some respect.”

  “The way he did you before?” Justin scorned. “And I was calling him Alpha Captain because of the way he swans around as if he’s in charge of everything. It pisses me off.”

  For a man to break his annual leave as Jake had done then be faced with this was unforgivable, Parker thought. And, though technically Parker knew he wasn’t to blame for what Hugh had done, he felt responsible nonetheless. As, he imagined, any parent would. And Jake seemed to know that. “I understand his anger, Justin.”

  Justin began pacing. His hands were jammed into the pockets of his ski suit and the hood pulled low over his face.

  Parker f
rowned at his son. “Aren’t you tired? All I want to do is sleep.”

  “Adrenaline I guess.” Justin shrugged, face grim. “Besides, I’m too angry to sleep. I’m just as resentful as that captain.”

  “Well, he broke his annual leave to find himself stranded in the backcountry. He’s lost a good friend, and he probably hasn’t eaten for longer than us. Do you really expect him to stroll around whistling?”

  Justin approached Hugh’s bed and stared down at his younger brother for a moment, his fists balling into fists. “Why didn’t you stop him?” he demanded.

  Parker’s eyes narrowed. “What? What are you talking about now?”

  “Hugh.” The word flew out from Justin’s mouth like a snowball. “Why didn’t you stop him from going into that cockpit?”

  Parker gaped in disbelief. “For heaven’s sake, Justin, give me a break. Both you and Hugh are adults; he should know how to behave. And if I recall correctly, I was the one trying to make him see sense. It was you who sat back, unwilling to get involved.”

  Justin swore and went to sit down on his own platform. “I didn’t know he was going to do what he did.”

  “And I did?” Going out for cigarettes in this cold had agitated Parker’s already aching muscles, and this conversation with Justin wasn’t helping. “You need to have some empathy for what he and Emily are going through. How would you feel if someone caused Hugh to die?”

  Justin only grinned. “I’d inherit the entire hotel chain, lock, stock, and barrel, so it wouldn’t be all bad.”

  “Justin!”

  He snickered. “Relax; I’m kidding. But look, I’m not dying out here. No way.”

  “Jake pointed out the facts to me; they aren’t pretty.”

  “He doesn’t have all the answers.”

  “He has more than us.”

  “Someone from the hotel is bound to notice when you don’t get back as scheduled,” Justin insisted. “Everybody knows when the boss is returning. Someone’s bound to start asking questions.”

  “That’s speculation, Justin. Nobody may ask. It’s not unusual for me to take a few days extra holiday without telling anyone. I'm not accountable to anyone.” The beauty of running one’s own business, he knew. But for the first time in twenty-two years he resented his own independence.

  “What….” Justin swallowed. “What are you saying?”

  Parker turned to lay on his back. His mouth had set in a grim line, and despite his efforts, he couldn’t relax it. “I’m saying…I’m saying that this time…Hugh has got us into something that money can’t fix.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cold, merciless hands kept Nina pinned to the plane seat. Smoke clogged her nose and throat, making her choke and sputter. Desperate and frantic screams drilled through her ears while her head crashed against the back of her seat. “No, no. Somebody stop it.”

  “Neen, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

  Nina bolted upright, gasping her way through the nightmare. Her cheeks were damp and her vision blurry as she stared up into Angela’s anxious face. Angela leaned over her, her own face drawn and scare as she tightened her arm around Nina’s rigid shoulders.

  “Bad dream?” Angela asked softly.

  Nina swallowed twice. “Yeah,” she managed. “Bad dream.”

  Angela wet her lips, a gentle hand on Nina’s shoulder. “About the crash?”

  Nina ran a shaky hand down her face. “Yeah. But I’m okay now.” She would say it until she believed it, she decided. “I’m okay now.”

  Biting her lip, Angela returned to her own sleeping platform. “One good thing about me fainting on that flight was that I’d already passed out and so missed the horror of it.”

  “Yeah.” On a deep breath, Nina turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling with blank eyes. She was still shaking. A nightmare about the crash; she hoped it would be her last.

  “Sure you’re okay?” Angela whispered. “We can stay up and talk if you like.”

  Nina managed a shaky smile. What a great friend. “No it’s okay. Go back to sleep. And, Ange...let's just forget this happened.”

  Angela clearly understood, and when she'd settled back down and turned onto her side, seeming to ease easily back into slumber, Nina drew a deep sigh. The nightmare had jostled her, unsettled her, and now awoken her so that she had no choice but to think and worry about their situation. She’d wanted so desperately to reach Hazel, she remembered. Despite what Ange said about delivering heartbreaking news, the fact that her family didn’t know of her predicament made her uneasy.

  Such emotions made falling asleep difficult.

  Her preferred position to sleep had always been with her legs bent up against her chest, but the stiffness in her legs now made that impossible. Ange had fallen asleep, and she envied her friend the ability to sleep so soundly, temporarily escaping the chronic anxiety that Nina found battered her. All she could think about was what if? What if Jake and Justin hadn’t known how to build snow caves? she wondered, not for the first time. What if Jake had died along with Ben? What if she had?

  The cave was quiet now, the heated altercation between Jake and Parker, which she’d heard every word of, had ended. Jake hadn’t held back, and she had only to regret that his assault hadn’t been directed at Hugh, who she felt deserved it more.

  So it had been Hugh’s flagging self-esteem that had brought them to this? She had wanted to know what had transpired in that cockpit. Now she did. He’d wanted to fly the jet himself? She shook her head. His insecurity had landed them in this mess? But she’d learned a long time ago that insecurity was the cause of a lot of problems. Jake might not consider himself a psychologist, but he seemed to have diagnosed Hugh’s problem correctly. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised; she’d studied law for long enough to have since realized that most problems in life were caused by low self-esteem. It was just harder to accept when you found yourself the direct victim of it. Hugh’s demons had caused a man’s death and rendered the rest of them helpless. Was Parker responsible for that? Jake seemed to think so. She wasn’t a parent, but she had single-handedly raised her three younger siblings: Hazel and the twins, Sebastian and Alistair, who were older than Hazel but younger than Nina herself. She was under no illusion that she’d been the perfect guardian. At seventeen, and even now, years later, she was no guru on parenting. For her, it remained the hardest job she’d ever done. But she did know, purely by witnessing how Hazel and the twins treated the others that her siblings did their best to treat others as they liked to be treated themselves.

  They didn’t do it perfectly, of course. Who did? But they acted nothing like Hugh Drayton. For that, she was grateful and proud of herself.

  But Ben was gone. She still couldn’t believe it. He’d died doing his job, doing what he’d loved. It had been undeserved, unfair, and unnecessary; his life snatched away by another man’s irresponsibility. It reminded her all too clearly of when her parents had died all those years ago. They too had died due to someone's irresponsibility.

  The finality of death – the absolute completeness of it – made it hard to look back, to remember the things you didn’t say to the person that you wished you had, the love you’d neglected to show due to being busy with other things. The choices she’d made for her and her siblings had been a direct result of what she felt she owed to her dead parents. When she and her siblings talked about their parents now, which they’d been doing more so recently, it carried a sense of gratitude for who their parents had been.

  She had been seventeen when she had first experienced death when her parents had died. Nothing had prepared her the sheer level of debilitating emotions that had come with it.

  Hazel was now nineteen and their two brothers – the twins, Alistair and Seb –were twenty-five. But when their parents had died, Hazel had been only four and the twins ten. The twins often remembered quite a bit about them, but it was Hazel, who had been only four at the time, who struggled to recall anything concrete about th
em.

  Hazel was excitable and strong-willed, always wanting to try the next thing. Nina smiled. She’d been that way herself once, before tragedy had placed obligation and duty on her narrow teenage shoulders. She still remembered trying to answer all of Hazel’s confused questions, and recalled the twin’s withdrawn behavior. The same behavior, she realized, that she was understandably seeing with Emily.

  Back when her own parents had died, extended family had been of little help. Their mother’s only surviving relatives, two aunts, hadn’t wanted to be saddled with four children. Social Services had wanted to separate them, but even as a teenager, she’d known that wouldn’t have worked. Who would comfort the twins when they suffered another of their nightmares? Who would let Hazel climb into bed with them every night and put up with her constant gibbering, and fidgeting?

  Up until her parents died, she’d focused on herself like any other teenager. Dreams of being an Olympic gymnast had consumed her life. But when faced with the crushing realization that her parents were never coming back, those things had ceased to be important. It hadn’t meant that she’d stopped wanting them, but only that the bigger challenges of life required time and attention. Who would be there to cheer her when she won gold anyway? Who would support her financially with the training and expenses that went hand in hand with becoming an Olympic gymnast? Though her parents hadn’t lived to see what she’d been able to accomplish for herself and her younger siblings, she had a strong hope they’d be proud.

  Would how she handled this current situation make them proud if they were still alive?

  She hoped so. She made her living by solving legal problems. She was trained to find answers, expected to dig out solutions and find the truth. In addition she'd developed the mentality from the age of seventeen of not quitting easily. From what she saw in Jake, he, like her friends Ange and Neil, didn’t seem to quit easily, either. He’d lost a good friend, lost a great deal more than they had, and yet he remained purposeful and focused. He had a short fuse when it came to the Draytons, and granted, he hadn’t been as forthcoming with her regarding their plan of action as she would have liked, but she still found herself comforted by his addition to their group.