Wings of Love

by Scotty Cade

  “Wow, if I didn’t know you guys, I would swear that this was a soap opera,” Zander said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s over now, so no more drama,” Brad said.

  “On another note,” Zander said. “Are you prepared for tomorrow’s storm? It’s supposed to be pretty bad—six feet of snow and sixty-knot winds.”

  “I’m all set,” Brad said. “The solar panels are still secured from the last storm, and all I need to do is close and lock the shutters. I’ve got plenty of firewood, food, and brandy. I also heard the weather report a little while ago, and it doesn’t sound too good.”

  “Would you like to come down to the lodge and ride it out with us?” Zander asked.

  “Nah, I appreciate the offer, but I need to decide what I’m going to do with my life, and this is the perfect time to do it. No distractions.”

  “Do you want us to keep our VHF radio on?” Jake asked.

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it,” Brad said. “Mac and I passed the last storm here, and it was pretty uneventful.”

  “I tell you what, we’ll leave our radio on if you do. Just in case we may need each other, but remember, being down at the lake, we don’t get as good a reception as you do up here,” Zander said.

  “I’ll remember that, and thanks for checking up on me, guys. You’re great friends,” Brad said.

  Zander and Jake stood to leave. “We better get going; we still have some things to do around the lodge before tomorrow morning.”

  “Be careful heading down the mountain,” Brad said. “And if you need me for anything, remember I’ll have my radio on,” he said as he closed the door.

  The cabin was again empty and quiet. Brad started a fire and lit his oil lamps. He walked to his bed, the bed he and Mac had shared for the last week. He lay on Mac’s side and wrapped his arms around Mac’s pillow. He took a deep breath and inhaled Mac’s scent. He buried his face in the pillow and silently cried. It is going to be a long winter, he thought.

  Chapter 30

  MAC got out of bed at four thirty, without much sleep. He checked his weather radio, and the storm was due to arrive at the mountain range by late morning, which meant that if he left at first light, he could make it to the lake before the worst of it hit.

  He dressed and quietly opened his bedroom door, trying not to wake Zoe and Zach. Zoe was standing in the doorway. She threw her arms around her father’s neck and said, “Be careful, Daddy, and good luck. I love you.”

  He slid his arms around her waist, held her tightly, and said, “Thanks, baby, I’ll need it, and I love you too. Listen, this storm is supposed to be pretty bad, I may not make it back for a few days, so don’t worry if you don’t hear from me. Besides, this storm is a good thing. Even if Brad doesn’t want me back right away, he surely wouldn’t put me out in a blizzard, and then I’ll have a few more days to work my magic.”

  “Good plan, Daddy. Don’t take no for an answer,” she said with a smile.

  “I need to get going, honey, so I can beat the worst of the weather. I love you, and thanks for everything,” Mac whispered in his daughter’s ear.

  “I love you too, Daddy. Be careful.”

  Mac quietly went downstairs, skipped the coffee, and headed straight for the front door. Before he made it down the hall, Zach caught up to him and said, “Good luck, Mr. Cleary. Zoe told me everything last night.” Mac started to blush just a little.

  “Thanks, Zach, but if we’re gonna be related, you got to start calling me Mac.”

  “Good luck, Mac,” he said with a smile, and gave him a hug.

  FIFTEEN minutes later, Mac pulled into the Lake Hood parking lot. He checked the weather once more at his kiosk and made his way out to the dock. It was five forty-five, and daybreak was still far off. He ran through his checklist, started the engine, and requested permission to take off.

  His pontoons left the Lake Hood at six ten. That should put me at the lake by six fifty-five, he thought. The wind was starting to pick up, but he’d flown in a lot worse. Brad was worth any chance he’d have to take to get to him and make things right.

  He was in the air about thirty-five minutes and about to start his descent when his wind shear alarm sounded. The alarm indicated a possible wind shear in his immediate vicinity, so he disengaged the autopilot and took control. As he adjusted the flaps and started his descent, the winds at the lower altitudes were getting much stronger. The lower he got, the stronger the turbulence and winds became. He kept waiting to break through the low ceiling, but nothing—simply white. He immediately realized he was experiencing whiteout conditions in addition to the high winds. Mac kept a very close eye on his instruments, as whiteout conditions can produce a feeling of vertigo, where you lose the ability to determine which way is up or which way is down.

  As he tried to steady the small plane and keep himself calm, he remembered the famous crash of John F. Kennedy Jr. off Cape Cod. John Jr. was flying from New York to Cape Cod and ran into a heavy fog bank. He hadn’t been trained to fly with instruments alone, and combined with zero visibility, it was a disaster waiting to happen. It was later determined that the cause of the crash had indeed been vertigo.

  Mac reminded himself that he was a well-trained pilot and very capable of flying on instruments alone. He knew he couldn’t afford to make that mistake, but was confident that he could land the plane on the lake in the general vicinity of the lodge.

  As he continued his descent, the winds became increasingly difficult to handle. He gave the engines a little more power to help push the plane through the winds, but it didn’t seem to help. He was now bouncing around almost to the point that his plane was out of control. He kept waiting for a break in the snow to try and catch a glimpse of the lake, but he saw nothing but white. According to his instruments, he was about five minutes from landing when all hell broke loose. He was being blown in every direction and losing altitude quickly. He realized that he needed to get down, but he could no longer determine where he was. His last thought before he went into survival mode was, I love you, Zoe, and God, I love you, Brad. He flipped the switch on the radio and said, “Mayday! Mayday!”

  Chapter 31

  THE winds started howling about four o’clock in the morning while Brad lay awake in bed, tossing and turning. He sighed and turned over for the umpteenth time and finally decided that he would never go back to sleep. It was now six forty-five, and he’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep the entire night. He got out of bed and stoked the fire and threw on a few more logs. The winds were already howling, two hours ahead of the forecast, and he still needed to close and secure the shutters before the worst of the storm hit.

  He remembered that he’d promised Zander and Jake that he would keep his VHF radio on, so on the way to the bathroom to get dressed, he switched it on and made sure it was on channel sixteen.

  Halfway to the bathroom, he stopped in his tracks. His heart stopped beating when he heard Mac’s voice.

  “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is November 4649 Delta in the vicinity of Hiline Lake. Position: 61 degrees, 44.4 minutes north and 151 degrees, 22.9 minutes west. I’m going down. I repeat, going down. Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!

  “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is November 4649 Delta in the vicinity of Hiline Lake. Position: 61 degrees, 44.4 minutes north and 151 degrees, 22.9 minutes west. I’m going down. I repeat, going down.”

  Brad broke into a cold sweat. He ran to the radio and picked up the receiver.

  “November 4649 Delta, this is Wing Mansion, do you copy?”

  “Brad!” Mac yelled. “I’m going down. I’m very close to the lake, and I’m in whiteout conditions. Having trouble keeping control.”

  “Mac, what do I do?” Brad yelled into the radio.

  “Nothing, baby, just say a prayer for me and forgive me,” Mac said. “Brad, I love you, and I don’t care who knows it. If I make it out of this, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  Brad heard the whine of the plane’s engin
e as it approached the cabin, then felt the vibration as it passed over, seemingly a few feet above the roof.

  “Mac,” Brad yelled. “You just passed over the cabin, heading away from the lake. Can you turn around?”

  “Can’t!” Mac shouted back. “I need to stay into the wind to help slow me down.”

  “I love you too, Mac. I’ll find you, just don’t die, Mac, please don’t die,” Brad begged. “Mac,” he yelled. “Do you copy? Mac?” Silence.

  Brad dropped the radio receiver and ran for the bathroom. He pulled on whatever clothes he could find. He slipped on one boot while hopping across the room, and he heard a very loud noise. The cabin walls shook, and he fell to the floor.

  “Oh my God, Mac. Mac!” he yelled.

  He crawled to the door while sliding the other boot on. He reached for a coat and a pair of snowshoes on the way out the door. He slipped the coat on as he ran, but stopped to put the snowshoes on before he started up the mountain. He ran in the direction Mac had been flying and the sound of the crash but could see very little. He didn’t know what he was going to find, but he knew he had to find Mac, dead or alive.

  Chapter 32

  BRAD knew the crash couldn’t be too far from the cabin because of the force of the impact he’d felt, but where? He looked all around as he ran up the mountainside. He looked up and down for any signs of debris or a crash, but it was so hard to see anything. He ran until he couldn’t run anymore and collapsed in the snow.

  I’ve got to get up. I’ve got to find Mac, he thought. He rolled over in an attempt to get up, and as he looked up, he saw what appeared to be a piece of a wing from Mac’s plane.

  I’m so close, he thought. I’ve got to keep going.

  He forced himself up and started running again. He barely kept his balance when he ran smack into a piece of the plane. It looked like part of the tail section, but he couldn’t really tell. He ran farther and stopped. Through the wind, something was splashing on his head, and he looked up. What was left of the plane was lodged in the dense trees above him. He touched the liquid on his head and brought his fingers to his nose. Fuel!

  I’ve got to get Mac out of there, he thought. This damn thing could blow up any minute. He looked around at the base of the trees and found one he could shimmy up. He kicked off the snowshoes and started to climb. It was difficult and slow going until he got to the first hanging limb. He used the limbs as step ladders until he made his way from one tree to the other and finally to the fuselage. The windshield was broken out, and through the opening he could see Mac slumped over the wheel, covered in snow. He shouted Mac’s name. No response. He called to him again; still no response. He didn’t know how much more weight the crumpled plane could handle, but he had to get to Mac.

  He slowly climbed onto the nose and through the windshield as far as he could get.

  “Mac, can you hear me?” he yelled. “Mac?”

  Brad reached in and pushed Mac’s head back, and blood was gushing out of a cut on his forehead. He felt Mac’s neck and found a pulse. He was alive. Brad ripped off his coat and then his shirt. He used a piece of glass from the broken windshield and ripped off a sleeve of his shirt and tied it around Mac’s bleeding head. He put his coat back on and zipped it up before he reached into the plane and released Mac’s seatbelt. He attempted to pull Mac out of the seat, but his legs were jammed under the dashboard. He had to get to the seat release so he could move it back, but he couldn’t reach it from his current position. He climbed all the way through the windshield and fell headfirst into the copilot’s seat. Brad was able to maneuver himself into a position where he could just barely reach the release and tried to move it. It was stuck, probably from the force of the crash. He turned around to find something to use to release the seat and was surprised to see that the entire tail section of the plane was gone. He positioned himself and kicked the lever with his boot until he was able to move it and finally release the lock on the seat. Once the lock was broken, the seat flew back from Mac’s weight. Brad could see that Mac’s left knee was beat up pretty badly and bleeding, and Mac had a cut on his right thigh. He found a roll of duct tape in a canvas bag and wrapped Mac’s knee and thigh repeatedly until the wounds were sealed. He looked around at what was left of the plane to see what he could use to get Mac down. He spotted the two cables that Mac had used to secure the plane during the last storm and decided that they were his only options.

  Brad looked down to determine how far up they were, but he couldn’t see the ground through the snow. He’d have to chance it and hope there was enough cable to make it down. He unwound the cable and fed one end under Mac’s arms and around his chest. He secured it with the hooks attached and wrapped the other end around his waist. He pulled Mac from his seat, laid him on his back, feet first, and slid him little by little to the open end of the plane. When he was positioned at the opening, Brad braced himself between the two seats with the cable wrapped around his waist and used his feet to gently push Mac through the opening of the plane. Mac slid out of the opening, and Brad felt all of Mac’s weight dangling outside of the plane. The plane started to tilt in the direction of the opening, and Brad was thrust forward. Brad and Mac slid about three feet before Brad caught hold again and stopped them. The plane teeter-tottered in the treetops while he held on for dear life. He figured it was now or never. He slowly began to lower Mac to the ground by releasing the cable around his waist little by little and using his body weight to secure them both. Suddenly something gave way, and the tail dropped about two feet and stopped. Brad held his breath but knew he couldn’t panic. He had to work quickly if he was going to get Mac to the ground. After about fifteen minutes of gently sliding the cable around his waist, the weight and pressure were suddenly gone.

  He’s got to be on the ground, Brad thought.

  He removed the cable from around his waist and, not knowing if the plane was secure enough to lower himself out the same way he had Mac, he climbed out of the cockpit window and balanced on the nose of the plane while he secured the other cable to one of the trees just within his reach. He climbed back in the nose of the plane and wrapped the secured cable around his waist. He slowly shimmied his way through the rear opening of the plane and rappelled down until he reached the ground. Mac was still out cold. He removed the cable from Mac’s underarms and lifted him over his shoulder. He silently thanked himself for staying fit, and Mac for his lightweight swimmer’s build.

  Brad had carried Mac for a few minutes when suddenly he heard a loud crash, and what followed knocked them both to the ground. What was left of the plane toppled out of the trees, hit the ground, and exploded. The explosion engulfed the nearby trees and continued to burn. The wind would fan the fire until all of the fuel was gone, but everything was so wet that the fire probably wouldn’t spread.

  Brad stopped every ten minutes or so to rest and then continued on. His hands were becoming numb, and he couldn’t feel his feet, but he had Mac. He knew Mac was alive, but beyond that he had no idea what condition he was in. The going was tough, but luckily, he was going down the mountain or he would have never made it. They were still experiencing whiteout conditions, and the wind was now blowing around sixty knots, with gusts up to eighty. As they got closer, Brad picked up the pace just a little until they reached the back porch. He was exhausted, but they had made it, both alive.

  Brad forced open the back door with his foot as he carried Mac to the bed. He laid Mac down and ran back to the door and forced it shut against the wind. Once back at Mac’s side, he reached under the bed for his medical bag. The fire was still going, and the cabin was warm, so he removed his coat and wet boots and took Mac’s pulse—weak, but steady. He removed Mac’s coat and shirt and laid him back down. He unlaced his boots and removed them, along with his socks. Mac’s right ankle was badly sprained and black and blue. He went to the kitchen and got a plastic bag out of the cupboard and went out back to scrape up some snow. When the bag was full of snow, he forced the door closed against
the wind, and laid the bag of snow over Mac’s foot.

  He then removed the duct tape from both legs and surveyed the wounds. The cut on Mac’s thigh was pretty deep and would require stitches. His knee was banged up pretty badly, with a couple of small lacerations, but in time would be fine. He removed his shirtsleeve from Mac’s head to examine those injuries. Mac had a large trauma to the left side of his head, where he must have hit the dashboard, and a long laceration that wasn’t very deep on the right, presumably from the windshield. The laceration wouldn’t require stitches, but a few butterfly bandages would be required to hold it together tightly. In addition, he was sure that Mac had a pretty bad concussion, but how bad, he couldn’t tell without a CAT scan or MRI.

  He cleaned the head wound and made sure there were no glass particles in the laceration, then applied the butterfly bandages. He got another bag of ice, placed it on the trauma to help with the swelling, and moved on to his legs.

  He gently slid Mac’s pants off, trying to avoid touching the wounds and trying not to disturb his ankle. He looked through his medical bag and found a tube of topical anesthesia. It wasn’t the best solution, but it was all he had and better than nothing. He decided that Mac was better off unconscious if he had to stitch him up with only topical anesthesia, but either way, Brad knew Mac would endure what needed to be done in order to recover.

  Brad cleaned Mac’s knee and wrapped it with gauze and an Ace bandage. He then gently cleaned the laceration on Mac’s thigh. This one was very deep and would require stitches inside and outside the wound. He retrieved the surgical sutures from his medical bag and began the process. Every now and then he looked up to see if Mac was showing any signs of being in distress, but saw no change. He completed the stitches and bandaged the wound. He had done all he could for Mac here and hoped it would be enough until he could get him to the hospital.