"Thank you," Bree said
There seemed to be no reception area for West Central Air near the rental car firms.
"There it is," Jenny said, and pointed to a small counter tucked in an alcove. A pile of cardboard boxes almost hid the modest company sign – West Central Air.
"Thank goodness," Bree replied. "We're due to leave in twenty minutes."
A man in a pilot's uniform smiled at them from behind the counter. He glanced at the tickets and banged them with a stamp. "It's only a small six-seat Cessna Stationair," he said after he heard their English accents. "We don't offer the comfort of the Air New Zealand flights." He grinned. "You'll be the only passengers. I'll be glad to have your company." The man laughed when he noticed Jenny's screwed up nose. "My name is Vince Thorton, pilot, attendant and cleaner. We take mail and freight out every morning and fly back again at five in the afternoon. Often, I fly alone. Still want to come?"
"A small aeroplane will be a change, " Bree said. "I've heard it's quite a scenic flight."
The pilot nodded and walked around the counter. "I'll take your luggage. As soon as I get these cartons loaded, we can be off. Be at Departure Gate 3 in about quarter of an hour."
THE FLIGHT WAS QUITE unlike any Bree and Jenny had been on before. In an aeroplane the size of a station wagon, and with the wing above them, they had a tremendous view of the country below. It was rugged, steep and covered in thick bush, as Vince called the forest below. Bree sat in the front beside the pilot while Jenny sat in the seat behind.
"We'll be over pine forests soon," Vince said above the murmur of the engine. "Then it's Lake Taupo and the central high country. I'm afraid there's a northerly storm coming in so the mountains may be hidden."
The three volcanoes were visible, though, and still had snow on their shady southern slopes. The wide, twin-peaked Mount Ruapehu towered above the conical shaped Mount Ngaurahoe and smaller Mount Tongariro, while the surrounding land of light brown tussock had a black line cut diagonally across it.
"The Desert Road," Vince said. "Ruapehu, that biggest mountain, is two thousand seven hundred metres high. It's the largest in the North Island."
"Impressive," Jenny replied as she gazed out the window. "Those clouds behind it sure look black, though."
"The storm's coming in quite quickly," Vince replied. "We should be all right, though. We're moving southeast away from it. There's more high country for a while, then you'll see the Manawatu Plains."
The sky behind the three mountains was inky black, and one misty section showed where a downpour covered the landscape.
"Oh my," Bree muttered as the whole northern sky split open in white sheet lightning. Seconds later, thunder rumbled and the Cessna buffeted. Bree grinned at Jenny, who appeared a picture of tranquillity. Her own stomach felt queasy and she concentrated on looking straight ahead through the spinning propeller.
The sky darkened and more sheet lightning cut across the sky in increasing intensity. The Cessna vibrated with each sound. Bree now felt quite ill and reached for the security of a paper bag. Even Jenny had paled a little, but the nonchalant pilot took it in his stride. He reached for his radio, changed frequencies, and a different voice came through the speakers.
"The great divide," he explained. "We're in the central air control district. There's a radar station east of Palmerston North. They're just telling us we're on their scope." He grinned. "Half an hour and we'll be there."
Bree braved a look out a side window where thickly forested hills poked out of misty rain clouds. Visibility dropped and the instruments glowed in semi-darkness. Suddenly, hail hit their aeroplane - pelting stones of ice that drowned the engine noise. It lasted for two minutes or so, and then disappeared as quickly as it came. More lightning flashed but it was behind them, and a ray of sunlight pierced the clouds in the east.
"Almost through," Vince said
Bree caught Jenny's eyes and smiled. She hadn't vomited and her stomach felt as if it could now handle the vibrations. Away ahead, the clouds broke, and green, flat land came into view. This gave her confidence. She glanced at her watch, sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. Their arrival time was twenty minutes away. Thank God they were almost there.
POSSIBLY ONE OF THE loneliest spots in the country on New Year's Eve was Stapleford Hut in the Ruahine Ranges northeast of Palmerston North. This was one of the more remote huts that provided basic shelter for hunters and the more dedicated trampers in the area. As the misty rain turned to a steady downpour and the summer light faded into darkness Ray Barnett walked under the back veranda and removed his drenched rainwear.
If old city acquaintances could see him now they would have commented on the change. His pale skin had become deeply tanned and he'd put on several kilograms of weight over the last two months. His wet hair needed a trim and the old shorts, shirt and solid work boots contrasted to the business suit he'd worn in the city.
"Well, Pattie, we made it before the dark," he said and reached down to stroke the Black Labrador beside him. The dog shook water off her body and stared at her master with her tail thumping, as Ray continued. "Come on, we'll go inside and get the fire going."
The interior consisted of a kitchen and living area, two bunkrooms and a crude shower that had hot water once the wood waiting in fire box of the ancient metal stove was lit. Ray placed his backpack on the table, found a can of dog food and scooped half the contents into a tin dish for his companion.
"That'll keep you going while I get the fire lit and change into dry clothes," he said.
The dog hesitated and looked up with intelligent eyes. It was as if she didn't want to eat until Ray had something for himself.
Ray ruffled her ears and laughed. "Go ahead. I'll cook myself up something once the fire is going. Perhaps we can warm up some milk for you." He glanced at a calendar on the wall that still had October displayed. That was probably the last time anyone had visited Stapleford Hut.
"Well, this is better than getting ready for one of those New Year office parties," he muttered to himself.
Christmas with Emily and Ken had been depressing. Sure, his in-laws had done everything to make his time enjoyable, almost too much. Emily had fussed around, and the gifts they'd given him were from the heart, especially the photograph album with photos of Maxie's childhood. He appreciated their affection but was glad to leave town and head back to hills in the ex-army Land Rover he'd bought. This was parked a day's trek back at the nearest road head.
So, the lonely man was sound asleep in a narrow bunk with the Black Labrador on a mattress beside him as the clock ticked past midnight and the rest of the country celebrated the arrival of another new year.
THE CRACK SOUNDED LIKE one of those tiny firecrackers. It was muffled but ominous. The engine screamed of tearing metal, spluttered and stopped. The pilot frowned, adjusted some controls and the engine roared to life. However, it howled like a chainsaw gone wrong and cut out again. Everything shuddered and the aeroplane slipped sideways. Dials in front of the pilot competed with a siren and flashing red light for attention.
Jenny gasped and Bree clasped her seat belt and stared at the sky ahead. Vince swore, reached out and pulled a switch. The engine clanged once more, but wouldn't start.
"What is it?" Bree shouted. Her voice reflected the terror in her mind.
"I reckon a piston's seized," Vince replied, his own voice calm. "I'm trying to isolate it. It could be the fuel line. If we...." There was a clink and a misty vapour poured from the engine "Bugger," Vince swore. "The fuel pipe's broken away. That's aviation fuel pouring out." He pressed the radio transmission button. "Mayday! Mayday! West Central Air Cessna ZK VPB has lost engine power. Our position is...."
Bree stared at Jenny, Vince's voice fading to the background. The windshield was splattered with oil and the distinct smell of aviation fuel entered the cockpit. Below, thick hills of forest poked out of the misty clouds. It appeared as if they were suspended in the air and the trees were rushing
towards them.
"Can you talk to the air control," Vince shouted at Bree. "I need to bring the nose up."
Bree nodded, clamped the spare headphones on and spoke. "This is the Cessna. I'm a passenger. Vince is trying to pull the nose up."
"Central Air Control. Cessna ZK VPB. Can we have more details, please?"
Bree swallowed and pressed the red transmit button. In a voice far calmer than she felt she described what happened.
"And your name, Madam?" the voice cut in.
"Bree Ashworth."
"Good, Bree," the voice said. "Has Vince started the motor?"
"No," Bree replied. "The windshield is covered in oil."
"Has Vince pulled the nose up?" The controller's calm voice continued.
Bree glanced up "Yes. Our nose is up but the propeller has almost stopped turning. We appear to be level." She described everything, while the pilot wrestled with the controls and the Cessna's wings straightened.
Seconds that seemed like eternity passed before Vince touched her arm and smiled in appreciation. "I've stopped the dive and can talk on the radio now," he said and immediately began to read out technical data of their position, rate of descent and weather conditions. "We have five minutes at the most," he reported. "...Steep terrain all around. I'm heading into a valley. There's fog below and the ground view is obstructed..."
Bree glanced back at Jenny's pale face. "We'll make it," she whispered.
Jenny nodded and attempted a smile. "We swam on New Year's Day, Bree." Her voice was soft.
"Yes, we did. And we'll go back for more before we leave to go home..."
Jenny grimaced and pulled her seat belt tighter.
Beside them, clouds blurred past. Rain mixed with the fuel on the windscreen to make lines of smudged rainbow colours.
"Hang on!' Vince said in an emotionless voice. "We're going in."
CHAPTER 4
Dawn arrived early. It wasn't cold, but misty rain clung to the forest around Stapleford Hut. Ray glanced at the nearby hills and decided to leave his departure until the weather improved. His destination was another hut five hours away over a saddle, through a narrow valley and up to the top end of the forest where tussock took over. From there he would take linear studies at five hundred metre drops in altitude to see how several noxious plants had spread since a similar study had been taken five years earlier. Preliminary research had shown that the unwanted plants had made significant gains at the lower levels but at these higher altitudes the native secondary growth managed to outgrow the exotic intruders.
Ray washed his small bundle of dirty laundry, cleaned out the stove firebox and set it up ready for instant lighting by the next visitor. He grinned. It would probably be himself in about ten days on his way back. He swept the hut out and walked outside to study the conditions again. The rain had stopped but grey clouds still clung to the high ridges. It was almost eleven so he either had to start soon or wait another day.
"Shall we go, Pattie?" he asked his dog, "or would you like another lazy day?"
Pattie wagged her tail and looked up at Ray. Her tail beat and she trotted along the path a few metres, stopped and barked.
"Okay," Ray said with a laugh. "We'll go. I need to finish packing though. Won't be long."
Three hours later, he regretted his decision. The clouds had dropped and the pair found themselves walking through dense fog. The so-called track was overgrown and it was only the shiny pieces of metal nailed to trees at regular intervals that showed the way. Several of these had become obscured by undergrowth or lost over the years and, on one occasion, it was only with Pattie's help that Ray found his way back to his last marker to discover he'd gone the wrong way.
They stopped mid-afternoon and had a cold meal of sandwiches or dog food, depending on their tastes, and continued their journey.
An hour later, Pattie stopped and barked.
"What is it, girl?" Ray asked.
Pattie's ears were on full alert and she stared skyward.
Ray heard the object of his dog's attention. High above them an aircraft engine spluttered, roared to life and died. Ray grimaced and strained to hear more. Something was there, the sort of whistling sound of an object moving.
"Hush, girl," Ray said when Pattie gave a yelp and turned her head.
Ray also turned and gasped. An aeroplane appeared out of the clouds across from them. It was in trouble, too. No engine roared, but the whistling air was accompanied by the twang of metal hitting something.
As he watched, spellbound, the aircraft glided on and disappeared into another cloudbank. For several seconds Ray heard nothing. He waited but still jumped in fright when an almighty crash thundered through the trees.
"Come on, Pattie," he said. "Find it, girl. If anyone survives that they'll need our help."
Pattie barked in reply and headed off the track down a steep slope to the stream two hundred metres below. They were halfway down when the aircraft exploded and a fireball filled the valley ahead.
"We're too late, girl," Ray whispered. "Nobody could survive that."
Pattie, though, disappeared through the undergrowth.
"Pattie!" Ray yelled. "Wait for me." He had never seen his pet so determined.
"BREE!" SCREAMED A VOICE a million miles away. "Bree! Wake up! It's me, Jenny. My God, please wake up."
Bree opened her eyes and gasped for breath as a cold hand touched her face. She spluttered, managed to clear her throat and looked at Jenny. The young woman's face was all eyes, hair and blood. Further inspection showed the blood was pouring from a gash across Jenny 's forehead.
"Oh, Bree," Jenny cried. "You're okay?"
"I guess," Bree replied and attempted to sit up. She realized her legs were in water and there was nothing beside her. The wing and fuselage were gone. Crunched up metal was pushed back almost to her chest and pieces of glue-type glass particles were everywhere.
But the plane had stopped moving and the only noise that accompanied Jenny's voice was a gurgling stream. Everything stunk of aviation fuel. It would take only a spark!
Bree slammed her hand against her seatbelt control and almost fell into the water as the device released. "We have to get away," she shouted. "The plane might blow up."
How they did it, she couldn't remember, but she and Jenny managed to drag themselves upstream from the Cessna. The foliage on both banks was too dense to even consider going ashore. The knee-deep water swirled around and splashed Bree's thighs, the coldness helping to restore normality to her numbed mind. A horrible thought made her shudder. "The pilot," she cried. "Where's the pilot?"
"He saved us, Bree," Jenny panted. "There was this massive rock that he steered into...." Her chin trembled. "The whole of his side of the aeroplane just crunched up like a flattened soda can. He never had a chance."
"He's dead?"
Jenny nodded. "I thought you were, too. I ended up in the stream and saw Vince first." She shuddered. "You don't want to look. It's not him any more."
They stumbled on, holding to each other for support in the current.
"There's a gravel ledge ahead," Bree gasped when they arrived at a bend. "Make for it."
As they did so, the Cessna exploded with a thunder-like crack. A fireball of gasoline filled the area they'd just evacuated, shooting debris and putrid black smoke into the air. A scorching wind flung the two women into the water. By the time Bree crawled to the surface, the fireball had gone, and smoke poured skyward in billowing clouds.
Bree turned to find she was still gripping Jenny's arm. "Thanks," she whispered. "If it wasn't for you, I would have been in the middle of that."
Jenny nodded. "Makes us about even, doesn't it?" she replied in a solemn voice.
"Suppose it does," Bree said, and then managed a shaky smile. "My God, what a couple of drenched rats we are."
"But alive rats," Jenny replied. She staggered forward to the gravel ledge, sat down, and wrapped her arms about her knees. She stared around with uncertainty in her eye
s. "What now?"
"We stay here," Bree replied. "Vince gave our position. I'm sure there will be a search made."
"In this mist and rain?"
"Okay," Bree admitted. "We could be here the night." She shivered. "It's cold. We must be quite high above sea level."
Now that they were out of immediate danger her thoughts turned to her aching ribs. She probed her side, then gasped when her fingers pushed on a tender spot.
"We'll need to get up the bank," Jenny said. "It's thick with willows, but there are larger trees further in. There should be space beneath them." She stood up and placed an arm around Bree's shoulders. "You're shivering and look as white as a ghost."
"Aftershock," Bree whispered. "I'll be okay."
She wasn't though. Her head felt light, and Jenny's concerned face went out of focus. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on moving up the small bank. Sharp grass cut into her arms and the willows were so close together she could barely squeeze between them.
Jenny held branches back and helped her up a slippery section.
"Thanks." Bree squinted her eyes in pain, and then sank to her knees. Crawling, she made better progress and soon she and Jenny were through the band of willows. Ahead, tall trees towered above fern, grass, creeper and long, black vines. Everything dripped water but it didn't matter. She and Jenny were saturated anyhow.
"The vegetation is different than at home," Jenny panted as she flattened a clump of fern with a foot.
"I read that they have no dangerous native animals or snakes," Bree replied. She held her stomach and tried to keep her head clear. It felt as though the blood had stopped flowing.
For several more moments, they continued climbing until the undergrowth cleared and they found themselves under a canopy of gigantic trees. Apart from occasional drips they were also out of the rain.
"This'll do," Jenny said. "I'd hate to get lost in here." She guided Bree in beside tree roots thicker than her arm and knelt beside her. "Now, let's look at your wound."
Stretched Horizons Page 3
