by Jake Aaron
Jed smiled at the couple and headed downstream. Zeke ran to catch him. They headed past abeam the fuselage to the broken-off nose of the jet. If the front section had been on the other side of the river, they couldn’t have got to it today. The fast-running river spanned over 60 feet here. The nearest bridge was four miles downstream.
A small tributary gouged the high riverbank to create a nice access point near the aircraft’s nose section. Here the high riverbank tapered down to the level of the river. Both men took off their boots and socks. They rolled up their trousers to wade in the shallow water around the back of the nose section.
“This freezing water on my lower quarter is a ripper. I don’t know how Meagan survived,” Zeke observed.
“Worse than when I used to walk ten miles to kindergarten, barefoot in a snowstorm in North Dakota,” Jed said.
“That is bad, Jed. I only had to go nine miles.”
Both tried to smile with their numbed blue lips.
Jed boosted Zeke up to the flight deck to access the cockpit entrance door. The door was unlocked.
Zeke found no bodies. No blood. The shoulder harnesses were flipped back behind the seats of the pilot and copilot. The empty cockpit was eerie.
From the flight deck, Zeke pronounced, “I guess I wasted your time, partner.”
“Nope,” Jed said. “We had to check it out. Good work!”
Zeke got down from the deck of the crew compartment with Jed’s help. “Hey, Jed, you must be freezing from standing in freezing water. Let’s stumble back to the fire and get warmed up.”
“Two ways to do this,” the big man began. “We can mess up our numbed-out feet up walking back barefoot on rocks and stickers and have dry socks and boots, or we can go in boots after we hand-squeegee our feet dry and walk in half-wet socks. I’ve done both, and I’ll tell you the second way is a lot better.”
“I’m with you, Jed.” Zeke went on, “I’m just a city slicker who plays Indiana Jones on weekends.”
Jed laughed, “I’m just a guy who has done almost everything in the world wrong three times and finally learned from the third mistake.”
The damp socks in dry boots had done little to warm their feet as they approached Meagan, who appeared not to have moved from where they left her standing next to the fire. The fire told a different story. Meagan had obviously stoked it. The heat was welcome to the two men. They pulled up rocks to sit on so they could further dry their feet with the wonderful heat from the fire.
“To answer the question you’re about to ask,” Zeke said to Meagan, “there were no pilots on the flight deck.” His eyeballs reflected the lapping flames of the burning ponderosa wood.
“Well,” Jed consoled, “we didn’t save anybody, but I feel good about coming down here to make sure no one needed our help.”
“Amen, brother!” Meagan nodded.
“I’m especially proud of you, Meagan,” Jed said.
Zeke: “Me, too! “And more power to you for swimming in that freezing water.”
“Because I’m a woman?” There was a hint of offense in her tone.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Zeke kidded.
“I didn’t notice either,” Jed said with a smile. “Actually because you have a lot of grit!”
Meagan replied pleasantly — with a slight edge, “Just checking!”
*****
After the three basked in the warmth of the fire for half an hour, Jed looked at Meagan, “Shall I get more wood for the fire?”
Zeke took the question, “No, time to get going.”
“In that case, you keep Meagan warm while I shovel. He began using an entrenching tool to douse the fire with clumps of dirt and sand in the area. The fire had warmed nearby soil from an otherwise partially frozen mass.
Huddling with Meagan, Zeke offered, “One of life’s peak experiences for me was flying a Cessna 172 between a thin cloud deck above and the Bitterroot River below for several miles near here. Periodic ice floe buildups accented the slowly snaking river like unrhymed poety. It had an ethereal beauty and texture that was beyond comprehension. I swear my ears were hearing the ‘Blue Danube Waltz’ as the top of the fuselage pierced the cotton smoothness of the mist. Better than any carnival ride I’ve ever taken. I don’t think a trip to the moon could equal it. We’ll do that river buzzing together one day in the future. I’d love to show you that.”
Meagan said, “I’ll hold you to that promise. Thanks for the warm-up. I think I’ve recovered enough to get going.”
They paralleled the bank of the river for several hundred feet past the jet’s broken nose. There was only an occasional snap of a branch underfoot or whoosh of a gust of wind whistling through the trees to punctuate the silence. Each was let down at finding no survivors.
In the lead again, Meagan heard it first. “What was that?” She held up her hand and commanded, “Hold it!”
“I hear it, too!” Zeke said.
“I don’t,” Jed shook his head. He cupped his gloved hand around his left ear in desperation. “Too much time around farm machinery killed off my hearing.”
Meagan: “Sounds like a moan.” She led Zeke closer to the perilously high bank of the river. “It’s coming from down there. You guys need to lower me down!” She pointed to the sheer edge of the riverbank.”
“Again the lighter-than-us and you’re-the-only-medic arguments? We will if you promise not to jump into the river again,” Zeke kidded. “Just no heroics, okay? We’re out of dry spare clothes.”
Meagan tried to repel down the bank, but it fell away from her feet where the current had hollowed out earth below Zeke and Jed. Suddenly the two men supported her whole weight.
“Hey, guys, back up from the river! Your feet are on very thin ground. Now!”
The two men lost sight of Meagan as they backed up. The rope they held went limp as they gave Meagan slack to move about the gravelly, sandy shore of the river.
Meagan found the source of the moans. It came from something embedded in the bank, partially covered with dirt, sand, and rocks. She cleared the debris to find someone under blankets, strapped into a crew seat from the crashed aircraft. The long blonde hair of the person looked like strange yellow grass growing out of the soil. The owner of the blonde hair was unconscious and cold.
Meagan shouted, “Guys, I found a survivor. I’m going to tie the rope around her seat. You guys are going to pull her up. I need some time and much more slack. Got that?”
Meagan spent considerable time getting a stable, somewhat-level platform for the hoist. She wanted the survivor’s back and neck immobilized as much as possible. When Meagan was satisfied, she yelled, “Okay, guys, take it very slowly. Remember, she may have some neck or back injury. I know you can’t see her, so I’ll guide you as much as I can.”
*****
“Phenomenal, guys! You did a great job getting her and me back up here. I’m going to check her out as much as possible.”
“What do think, Meagan? Do we need another fire ?” Jed started to pull the hatchet out of his backpack. Like Zeke, he was still panting from hauling Meagan and the patient up to the top of the riverbank.
Before Meagan could answer, Zeke said, “No, no. I think we need to watch the sun. Time to head back. It’s a judgment call, but I don’t think our survivor should spend another night struggling against the elements. We’ll have to camp here tonight if we take time to build another fire. It’s going to be a challenge to get her back to the ranch in any case, but surely we don’t want to try it at night.”
“It is a tough call. I’ll have to agree with you, Zeke,” Meagan said as she checked the survivor’s pulse. “Besides, the snow is picking up again.”
“While you work with her, do you think it’s wise for Jed and me to build a drag sled with lodgepole pines? We could make a modified X-like structure with ropes for her to ride on. We could tie her seat to it and pull it behind us. Or we could carry her on a litter. Your call.”
Jed got in his two cents’ wo
rth. “If you wind up okaying it, a litter would be simpler and faster for us. Easier on the patient; we’ve got some rough terrain to go over. We’re all in pretty good shape. I think we can do it if the three of us rotate positions, two carrying at a time.”
Meagan looked up as she kneeled to examine the occasionally moaning figure. “I think the litter makes sense. You guys build it while I care for her.”
The litter was a masterpiece, given the circumstance. Jed was not only a farmer, he was also a Navy vet whose mastery of knots created a thing of beauty —- a woven bed — from the climbing rope. After the three moved the patient to her travel litter, Meagan cocooned her with blankets.
Walking beside the litter, Meagan spoke reassuringly to her unconscious patient in soft tones, “Dear, we’re going to be taking you to a safe place. The ranch where we are going has a wonderful fireplace. You will love it! We’ll be there in no time. You are going to be fine. You’ll find that you are warming up while we travel. You will be feeling much better. Every moment you are getting stronger and stronger.”
Holding up the rear of the litter, Jed said, “That debris in the river was sure sobering. Makes me never want to fly again!”
Carrying the front of the litter, Zeke answered, “Well, you just may not have to worry about that, considering our circumstances.” He expected laughter, and Jed was about to give it to him.
Meagan snapped, “Hey, you guys, let’s stay positive! If I can hear you, so can she. And I guess I have to remind you two about the importance of hydration — again. Let’s stop for a drink or two before we press on.”
*****
The ranch crew were overjoyed to see the rescue crew return with the littered patient. Lee held the outside door for the litter to pass into the enormous living room on the way to the kitchen.
Meagan took control, again. “Zeke and Jed, you situate the patient in the kitchen between chairs. I don’t want her warmed up too fast. Brock, would you check her again for neck and spine? I’ll catch you three up later on what I’m telling the others. Everyone else, let’s gather in the living room.”
John took Susan’s hand, “That’s our cue, folks. The captain has spoken.”
Meagan followed the group to the fireplace. Out of earshot of the patient, she stayed authoritative, “A big passenger jet crashed into the river, or onto it — whatever. Anyway, we looked for other survivors. The other passengers and crew may or may not have been rescued last night. We found no bodies, just many footprints.
“Jane Doe — don’t call her that — miraculously survived. Apparently ejected when the nose of the aircraft split from the wingless, tailless fuselage. She must have ridden a backward-facing seat like a sled for hundreds of feet into an embankment. Somehow she survived the winter night …”
“That’s a miracle!” Karen interrupted. “This young lady must be very special to live through that. She must have been chosen.”
“It is a miracle,” Meagan went on. “She apparently put blankets over herself before the crash. Debris fell on her when she hit the riverbank partially burying her and probably helped insulate her. The unseasonable ‘warm’ night helped. And, our mammalian diving reflex may have kicked in to preserve only essential body functions. She seemed to have skimmed the river’s surface.”
“Probably hydroplaned,” John theorized.
“That’s what it would appear,” Meagan continued. “Sorry, I couldn’t remember the word. Anyway, I’ll be calling on everyone to care for her. We’ll get her to the couch near the fireplace in good time. Meanwhile, I want to share my philosophy with you — something most of the medical community agrees with. I think it’s counterproductive to say anything negative, discouraging, or demeaning around an unconscious patient. I think her subconscious takes it all in, despite her condition. I urge you to talk to her, hold her hand, touch her forehead, or touch her feet. Encourage her. Men, hear me, you also have my permission to do that! She needs everyone’s words and touch. Stay positive, stay upbeat within earshot. Are you with me?”
Meagan’s tone did not invite any responses.
*****
After Meagan’s briefing, John approached Zeke. “Any signs of life out there? Any traffic on 93?”
Zeke shook his head. “No. We didn’t see anybody except our patient. You can normally hear the rush of traffic on 93 from the river, especially semis. We didn’t hear anything. We didn’t see any vehicles. And we didn’t see any jet contrails. I intended to get closer to the highway before we turned back, but then we found the flight attendant. Her uniform is a giveaway. And it defies all odds that a passenger seat would do a 180 to hydroplane over the river.”
John: “I’m asking because, I’m sure you remember, I’m supposed to report in at Kitsap in three days. Next day, of course, I set to sea. I’m thinking I’ll at least make my way to the Montana Army National Guard Armory in Missoula to check in. It’ll be a long trek, but I’ve got to show an effort to get back to duty.”
Zeke: “Think about who you want to go with you. I’d be honored to be your number two. I really respect what you submariners do for the country. It’s a great …”
“Thanks, Zeke. Lee Skelton committed to go with me. “I think he’s already going stir crazy,” John laughed.
Lee nodded and smiled as Zeke answered, “You make a good point, John. Getting folks out of the house is good psychology.” Then he had an afterthought. “Hey, did anyone try the cars this afternoon?”
“We did. Nothing. They wouldn’t start. It’s not good,” John said, looking down at the floor. He saw for himself how afternoon activity had taken his mind off the EMP aftermath. Now that event was again foremost in his mind again.
*****
The five couples gathered around the deck fire pit after supper, minus Meagan who attended the patient. The cold air from Canada had dramatically lowered temperatures well below 0 degrees Fahrenheit.
As more snowflakes fell on the group, Zeke announced, “I purposely asked to hold off discussion of business during supper. As a reminder, Meagan doesn’t want our still-unconscious patient hearing negative words — not that all of what we discuss is negative. I hope some of it is positive. We still don’t have power. Our vehicles cannot take us anywhere. Not much has changed in the last eighteen hours.
“John has probably told you that he has to head to the armory in Missoula to show an effort to report in. He’s due at his sub base in Washington in three days. I understand Lee will go with him to Missoula. After that, we expect Lee back, if not John. One or both can give us a report on what’s happening in the world.
“Does anyone else besides John have family or business in the area that compels them to leave? I know everyone would like to leave.”
Zeke was surprised to see no hands. “How about you, Jed and Karen? Can the farm animals survive long without you?”
Karen answered quickly. “We sold those off in the early fall.” Then she added with a smile, “We’ve gone vegan.” That brought an intended laugh from the group.
“I guess if you had just gone ovo-vegetarian, you might have to feed the chickens,” Susan kidded.
Jed laughed, “You know it presents unexpected challenges, like what to give up for Lent. Kale?”
Zeke was glad to have the humor in the group. “John, how did the inventory of materials go?”
“Our most immediate need is for wood to keep the fires going. There’s a good stock of wood, but we’ll go through it quickly, so we should be cutting and gathering wood every day. For now, why don’t we try no fires in any of the bedroom fireplaces upstairs? Worst case, we can bring all the mattresses into the living room by the fireplace. Let’s keep the living room fireplace going all the time, as well as the fire pit to melt ice and boil water.”
Karen added, “We have propane gas. I recommend we save that for kitchen cooking when weather is really bad. We can light it off with a fire-starter. Otherwise, we should probably cook outside on the grill.”
“Good point, Ka
ren. I meant to get to that,” John added. “Using propane for heating the house would pretty much be a waste. With no electricity to power the blowers, the heat from the furnaces would not circulate very much.
“We have a lot of food, but eleven people will go through that faster than we’d like. The freezers are well stocked but no longer powered. The colder winter weather is our friend. We can break up ice from the frozen creek on the property and use that in the freezers and refrigerator. We’ve already begun using creek ice for drinking water. We need a continuous boil of water on the grill to kill bacteria. The frozen creek water looks pristine, but giardia infection is a problem we don’t need …”
Lee: “Sorry, what’s giardia? I haven’t heard that one before.”
John: “My apologies. It’s a protozoan parasite sometimes found in contaminated water. It affects the gastrointestinal tract …”
Brock: “To avoid too much clinical jargon, the symptoms are like those of the flu.”
Sondra rolled her eyes. She was obviously bored with the talk and the people.
Lee changed the subject. “We found a lot of outdoor gear in the basement. Lots of rifles, pistols, and ammo. Also some archery gear. And lots of tools in the barn. If you have to be stuck somewhere in any emergency, this is the place!”
Anne chimed in, “I’m not the most talkative, but I’d like to say this is the group I’d chose to be with after a disaster. I like everyone here! And we have a wide diversity of strengths and skills.”
There were many seconds and nods to Anne’s comments. Group hug.
Susan observed the group dynamics with an approving look on her face. There was always a holdout like Sondra, she noted to herself. Of course, early diagnosis was often the practitioner’s curse. Sondra might be all right, but she still pegged Sondra as a narcissist. For sure, Meagan, who just joined the others by the fire pit, would be an asset to the group.
Then Brock said in a slightly irritated voice, “So I guess we need some kind of schedule of duties to keep the fires going and ice thawing. If we had the equipment, I’d start the patient on IVs to hydrate her. Given that we don’t, our only recourse to slowly push fluids if there is an indication she can swallow. Get me if you think that’s the case. I don’t want anyone drowning her. Is that clear enough?”
