The Survivors

by Dinah McCall

  “I don’t freak,” Evan snapped.

  “He’s been in Iraq,” Mike explained.

  Tony looked at the scars on the young man’s face and the patch over his eye, and then sighed. Evan had probably seen far worse than what was up on the mountain. He pointed to the snowmobiles. Each one held two people, and he pointed to the men in them and told everyone but the second driver to get out. Then he turned to Mike and Evan and said, “Get in.”

  Mike and Evan did as they were told and rode, without speaking, to the site of impact.

  The rows of blanket-covered bodies were growing as the rescuers carried additional bodies out of the fuselage and laid them out beside the others. Evan’s frantic gaze swept the rows as he looked for one much smaller than the rest.

  “Come with me,” Tony said as they got out.

  They followed silently.

  “Do you know where he was sitting?” Tony asked.

  “With his grandparents. Their names are…were…Pollard. Frank and Shirley Pollard. His name is Johnny O’Ryan.”

  Tony moved to a nearby table underneath an open tent and picked up a clipboard.

  “Passenger manifest,” he explained as he scanned the list.

  “Yeah…here are the names,” he said, then looked up at Evan and frowned. “I’m sorry to have to tell you, but they’ve already been located.”

  Evan’s heart sank. “Can I see them?” he asked.

  Tony glanced at Mike, who nodded.

  “Yeah, sure. This way,” Tony said, and then reminded him, “Keep it quiet, man. You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Evan didn’t answer, but the tightness in his jaw and the glitter in his eye were answer enough.

  Tony checked the list again, making a mental note of the numbers that had been assigned to the deceased in question, and then walked between the rows of victims until he came to the right place. He looked up at Evan.

  “You still okay?”

  “Just let me see,” Evan muttered.

  Tony lifted the blankets from both faces.

  Evan flinched, but that was all.

  “That’s them.”

  Tony dropped the blankets back in place.

  “Now, where’s Johnny?” Evan asked.

  “He hasn’t been found yet,” Tony said. “When he is, we’ll let you know.”

  “He would have been with them. If that plane was going down, they would have had him in their arms.”

  Tony frowned. “Look, son…I hear your frustration, but in a crash like this, bodies can be anywhere, and children rarely have identification on them.”

  “Then let me look at the children you have found,” Evan said.

  “So far, just two girls,” Tony said.

  The knot in Evan’s belly eased just the slightest bit. “Are you searching for survivors in the outlying areas?” he asked.

  “We’ll search until everyone has been accounted for. It’s still early days,” Tony said.

  “He’s alive,” Evan said. “I know it.”

  Mike wanted to believe him, but the devastation of this crash was hard to get past. The debris seemed to be scattered over a quarter of a mile, which meant a body could have fallen out of the plane at any time.

  “Why didn’t it burn?” Mike asked.

  “Part of it did,” Tony said. “The wings came off on impact a ways back in the trees and burned. There’s not much left of those. You can see from the skid marks how far the belly slid before it stopped. The tail section came off about a hundred yards from the wings. All of that burned, as well.”

  Mike blanched, thinking of Johnny being ripped from his grandparents’ arms—screaming in pain and fear as fire engulfed him. “Jesus,” he muttered, then looked away.

  But Evan didn’t waver. “He’s not here. He’s not dead.”

  Tony sighed.

  Evan shook his head. “He’s not dead, I tell you.”

  Before anyone could argue the point further, Evan felt a touch on his arm. He turned around to find himself eye to eye with a tall, slender woman who stood steadfast and shivering from the cold.

  “He’s right, you know. The child isn’t dead…and neither is the young woman with him,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?” Mike asked.

  Tony had a different question altogether. “God Almighty, lady, where did you come from?”

  She pointed north up the mountain.

  “What the fuck are you doing down here?” Tony asked, making no apologies for his language.

  “I came to help,” she said. “A young woman and a child are lost up there.”

  Tony threw up his hands. “And how do you know that?”

  “I saw them. They’re in the woods, and they’re in danger.”

  Evan grabbed her by the arm. “You saw them?”

  Deborah flinched. Normally she didn’t like being touched, but he’d taken her by surprise. She pulled away without making a fuss, though she really wanted to scream. There was so much pain associated with this young man that she could hardly breathe. All she could do was nod.

  “Where? Why didn’t you bring them with you?” Evan asked.

  Deborah braced herself. This was where it always got tricky.

  “I don’t know exactly where they are, but I can lead you to them,” she said.

  Mike didn’t know what she was up to, but this crap she was dishing out was making him nuts. He grabbed her by the arm and all but shook her in frustration.

  “Lady! You saw them, but you went off and left them? Are you crazy?”

  From the moment of contact, Deborah couldn’t take her eyes off this man’s face. She didn’t know who he was, or his name, or if she would ever see him again. But she knew that within the next few days, they would make love. The knowledge was startling for a woman who had only been with two men in her entire life, the last one almost twelve years ago.

  “Answer me!” Mike said. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “I haven’t physically found them yet. But I can,” she added.

  “I don’t understand,” Evan muttered.

  Deborah Sanborn sighed. Few ever did.

  “My name is Deborah. Deborah Sanborn,” she added. “And I saw them last night—in a vision.”

  Tony threw up his hands. “Oh, for the love of Christ! A fucking psychic. Get off my mountain, lady, and get off fast, before I have you arrested.”

  Deborah flashed the big man an angry look.

  “Look, mister, I don’t know who you are, but I can guarantee that this mountain is more mine than yours. I’ve lived up here all my life, and I don’t know you from Adam. However, if you’re referring to the crash site, I have no intention of interfering with your investigation. I came to help a man find his little boy, and I’m not going home until I do.”

  As Tony stood toe to toe with the woman, there was a piece of Mike that actually admired her guts. Antoine Deveraux would have given a grizzly pause for thought, yet she hadn’t moved an inch. Before any more words could fly, another man appeared, and he was sporting a badge and wearing a gun.

  “Hey, Deb…what are you doin’ to my investigator, here?” Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned to the O’Ryans and introduced himself. “Hello, people. Name’s Wally Hacker. I’m the county sheriff, and I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “I brought them up—but not her. You know this crazy woman?” Tony asked.

  “Yeah, I know Deb. Everyone around here knows Deb.” Then he looked at her and winked.

  She glared.

  Evan didn’t care who knew who. This was the first person who’d given him any hope since the phone call from his grandpop last night. He wasn’t about to ignore it.

  “Skip the social amenities,” Evan said as he watched Deborah’s face. “You swear Johnny is still alive?”

  “Yes.”

  The knot in Evan’s belly tightened. “And you really can help me find him?”

  “Yes.”

 
; “When do we leave?”

  “Damn it, Evan, wait!” Mike said.

  Evan turned, staring at his dad in disbelief. “For what?”

  Mike bit the inside of his lip to keep from throttling this woman. Who the hell did she think she was, giving people false hope? He glared at her.

  She stared back unflinchingly.

  His nostrils flared. Damn. Okay, so the crazy woman believed herself. That didn’t mean he had to. He turned back to the sheriff.

  “You said you know her?”

  Wally Hacker grinned at Deborah as he answered Mike.

  “Yeah. Went to school with her.”

  “So what do you think about her claiming to have visions?”

  Hacker shrugged. “Well…let’s see. I reckon she’s had dozens during the time I been sheriff, and they’ve all been on the money. She was right a few days back when a local decided to kick the living hell out of his wife. Deborah ‘saw’ it and called me. The man’s in jail, and his wife’s in the hospital, as we speak. As for the crash, she called me before daylight this morning to tell me it had happened. Looks like she was right again.”

  Mike frowned. It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear.

  “You mean she claimed to have ‘seen’ this plane crash? That’s hardly surprising, considering her claim to live nearby.”

  “It’s not nearby,” Deborah said, and pointed. “It’s almost eleven miles that way, and I didn’t ‘see’ the crash. I saw a boy and a young woman lost on the mountain. I saw them in danger. It wasn’t until I started backtracking the vision that I saw the crash.”

  Mike still wasn’t buying it.

  “How come they let you on the site when they didn’t want to let us?” he asked.

  “No one let me in. I walked down…from up there.”

  Mike’s mouth dropped as he stared up the mountain.

  “You walked here? Eleven miles?”

  “It’s easier walking downhill. Besides, I started before daylight.”

  Mike’s opinion of her changed. She’d made a monumental physical effort to get here. There had to be something in this for her. Then he keyed in on what she’d just said.

  “What do you mean…‘backtracking the vision’?”

  “I see the immediate, then I see what got them there. Sort of like watching a movie in rewind.”

  “Bull,” Mike muttered. “Okay, so that’s your story. It still doesn’t mean you’re a psychic.”

  “Look,” Deborah said, “I don’t care whether you believe me or not, but what do you have to lose?”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed. “And what do you charge for this…service?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “But for you, I could be persuaded to make an exception.”

  The sheriff laughed. “Deb, quit pullin’ their legs, now.”

  Evan threw up his hands in defeat. “Will all of you just shut the hell up? I want to find my son. Will you help me?”

  “Of course,” she said. “By any chance…do you have anything with you that belongs to your son?”

  Evan started to say no, then remembered. Elmo. He’d brought Johnny’s Elmo.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Mike rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, hell, son. If you’re bound and determined to do this, you know I’m coming with you, but Dad’s gonna want to come, too. You sit tight. I’ll go get him and send Grandpop back to the motel in the process.”

  “Can I take one of those snowmobiles?” Mike asked Tony, and when the big man nodded, he started back to the vehicle at a jog.

  As Mike was leaving, Sheriff Hacker’s radio squawked. He answered.

  “Hacker here. What’s up? Over.”

  “Sheriff, they’re sayin’ there ain’t no more bodies, but the count is off. Over.”

  The rhythm of Evan’s heartbeat skipped.

  “Off by how many? Over.” Hacker asked.

  “Three. They’ve got a woman and a child unaccounted for, and a senator. Over.”

  “What are the names? Over,” Hacker asked.

  “Molly Cifelli. Johnny O’Ryan. And the senator’s name is Darren Wilson. Over.”

  Hacker’s eyebrows arched as he wrote down the names.

  Evan looked at Deborah. He didn’t understand how this was going to work, but he was grateful that she was there. He eyed the big Cajun, who was still glowering.

  “So, Mr. Devereaux, when are you going to start a search?”

  Tony gestured at the sky.

  “We can’t search by air until the snow lets up, and it will take some time to organize a ground search.”

  Evan cursed. “By that time, my son could have frozen to death.”

  “I can find them,” Deborah said.

  “As soon as Dad gets back, you’re on,” Evan said.

  5

  Deborah was nursing a hot cup of coffee, compliments of Sheriff Hacker, when she saw Mike O’Ryan returning, accompanied by another man. Deborah’s eyes widened briefly. She could tell without introduction that he, too, was an O’Ryan, just older and taller than the two she’d already met.

  This one was wearing a navy-blue sock cap, a heavy winter coat and boots similar to Mike’s and Evan’s, but his backpack was a well-worn olive drab. She’d overheard Evan telling Sheriff Hacker that all the O’Ryan men had military backgrounds. The big Cajun from the FAA had corroborated the story by adding one of his own about how Mike O’Ryan had saved his life during the Gulf War.

  Reluctantly, she got out of the cruiser, dumped what was left of her coffee on the ground and picked up her own pack. By the time the two men approached her, she had it settled comfortably on her back.

  The one they called Mike was intriguing. She didn’t hold his opinion of psychics against him. Nearly everyone she came in contact with had a similar reaction. Still, if he glared at her too many more times, a few well-chosen words about what she saw in his past would probably bring him up to speed.

  However, Evan—who walked up at just that moment—was another matter. She eyed him carefully. It was obvious that he was still recovering from severe injuries, but he would stay the course. The glint in his eye and the set of his jaw were proof enough to her that he would do whatever it took to find his child.

  Just then the sheriff reappeared from the other side of a pile of wreckage.

  “Hey, Wally, thanks for the coffee,” she said.

  “Any time,” Hacker said, then eyed her carefully. “While you’re out there, remember we’re missing three souls, not two.”

  “I know,” she said, remembering the danger she’d sensed was following the woman and the child. It could mean anything from them being in danger from the freezing weather to some animal. She just wasn’t sure. She could say something about it, but it was so vague that she decided against it for now.

  “You got your cell phone?” Hacker asked.

  “Yes, but it’s not going to work in the mountains, and you know it.”

  “So what are you going to do if you need help?”

  “I’ll just look into my crystal ball and bypass future difficulties.”

  Hacker grinned, then turned to the three men who stood beside her. As he did, his grin vanished.

  “I don’t know you people, but I’m taking it on face value that you’re all on the up-and-up. ’Cause if you’re not, and you do one thing to hurt Deborah Sanborn, I’ll make you sorry…all of you. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Evan said.

  Deborah was a bit surprised and oddly grateful to Wally for standing up for her. It didn’t happen often and she was touched by his concern. She eyed the three men carefully. They looked at her without comment.

  “Evan…isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Evan said.

  “You said you had something that belonged to your boy?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that I do,” he said, and shrugged off his backpack, then dug through it.

  When he handed Deborah the red Elmo doll, she was immediately thrown into the past. She didn
’t know that her eyes gave away her lack of focus, but Mike saw it. Despite the fact that he didn’t believe in psychics, he couldn’t help wondering what was happening with her. Whatever she was looking at right now, it damn sure wasn’t that stuffed toy.

  Deborah’s fingers curled into the soft belly of the toy, watching the laughter of a young mother at a little boy’s first Christmas. Seeing a far different version of Evan O’Ryan holding his son and kissing his wife under a sprig of mistletoe. Watching a much younger Johnny sleeping with Elmo for a pillow.

  She frowned. It wasn’t the past that she wanted. She needed to tune in on Johnny now. Frustrated, she stuffed the doll down inside the front of her eiderdown coat, then pulled the zipper up as she turned to the men.

  “Is this all of you?” she asked.

  “I sent Grandpop back to the motel,” Mike said.

  She eyed Evan. “It will be rough going.”

  “I can do it,” he said.

  She nodded. “Then let’s go.”

  “Wait!” Mike said.

  She paused, waiting for him to speak.

  “How will you know where to go?” he asked.

  She thought of the silent, emotional pull of the lost souls. How do you explain that to non-believers? She couldn’t. So she patted the bulge underneath her coat.

  “Elmo will tell me.”

  “Jesus,” Mike muttered.

  “Yes, and Him, too,” she added, then turned her back on the men and started walking. She didn’t have to turn around to see if they were following. She could hear Mike O’Ryan muttering every step of the way.

  Molly woke up with a gasp and for a moment couldn’t remember where she was, but when Johnny stirred and burrowed a little deeper into the warm nest she’d made for him in her arms, it hit her.

  They’d been in a plane crash and were hiding from a killer.

  It felt like a nightmare, but she was awake, and the truth still weighed heavily on her shoulders. She looked around, remembering as she did that Johnny had become hysterical, so they’d taken shelter beneath some tree limbs. She’d held him and talked to him until he’d fallen asleep in her lap. Even though she knew they needed to keep moving, he had been physically and emotionally unable to continue, and she wasn’t strong enough to carry him.