by Janie Crouch
As they climbed into the air, she relaxed. She had no doubts whatsoever about Zane’s ability as a pilot.
“Okay, I have to admit I was expecting bullets to be flying at us or something,” Zane said into the headphones.
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’ve got to call in to the nearest air traffic control. Declare an emergency flight plan. There’s going to be a crap ton of paperwork to fill out with this, but—”
A deafening roar and loud popping sound came from the engine to their left before it stuttered to silence.
“What just happened?”
“Engine flameout,” Zane said, both hands wrapped in a death grip on the steering column, struggling to keep the plane steady. “We can still fly with one engine, but it’s not optimal. I’ll need to inform ATC so we can declare it and get back on the ground as soon as possib—”
His words were drowned out by another roar, this time from the right engine. Caroline could see the glare of the flames out of the corner of her eye for a minute before it went out.
Now they were flying with no power in either engine, the silence in the cockpit giving new meaning to deafening.
Zane struggled to control the Cessna at all now. “Get the radio and call out a Mayday.” He nodded toward the GPS unit between them. “Give them our closest coordinates.”
Caroline grabbed the radio and turned it to the frequency she’d used for the ranger station. No one was manning it, since it wasn’t her check-in time, but she kept repeating the Mayday and coordinates just in case.
She could see Zane looking around for anywhere they could possibly land. Big Bend wasn’t set up for planes and most of the ground wasn’t flat, especially in the direction they’d been heading before the engines blew.
“What do we do?” Caroline asked. It was much easier to hear her now with no engine noise.
“We need to find a place to put her down. Fast. Any open area. No big rocks or trees.”
That wasn’t going to be easy.
“I think that dried-up riverbank is our best option. It’s probably our only option.” Zane motioned to the left with his head and maneuvered the plane, almost by sheer willpower, toward it.
“C’mon, baby,” he muttered as the plane shuddered slightly, resisting his ease toward the opening in the earth in front of them.
An eerie shadow joined the already eerie enough quiet as the plane dipped lower and cliff walls surrounded them on either side.
“Caro, we’re going to be coming down fast and hard. Make sure your harness is on as tightly as possible.” Zane did the same to his own.
Caroline did all she could do, which basically was not scream at the top of her lungs and distract Zane, as the ground kept moving rapidly toward them. He needed every bit of concentration he could get.
“You can do this, Zane.”
She didn’t know if he heard her as the Cessna hit roughly along a higher section of the creek bed, then bounced hard against the ground. The force flung Caroline back against the seat as the plane flew back up, then came down roughly again. The impact was bone-jarring, but at least they were still alive.
Zane slowed the plane as much as he could and then turned the yoke sharply so they began to slide to the side. Working against their own speed snapped them around hard, collapsing one side of the plane as the landing gear gave out, slowing them down. She didn’t know if it would be enough to stop them from slamming into the ravine wall.
Zane took his hands off the yoke; there wasn’t anything he could do to steer now. The weight of the plane teetered forward as they continued their rapid approach toward the wall.
He reached out his hand to grab hers. “Hang on, we’re going to flip,” he said. Caroline grasped his hand, doubtful they’d live through the next thirty seconds.
The plane flipped, ripping their hands apart as they slammed into the ravine wall.
Then there was only blackness.
Chapter Eight
Zane’s eyes opened and it took him a minute to get his bearings. He was hanging in the seat sideways, the harness holding him in. The entire cockpit tilted at a precarious angle. But he was alive.
His attention immediately focused on Caroline. Her much smaller body may not have withstood the impact so well. He couldn’t see her from where he was trapped against the seat. Now that the plane had flipped, Caroline was above and a little bit behind him. And the plane was rapidly filling with smoke.
“Caro?” Nothing. “Caroline? Talk to me.”
He pushed himself up from the seat so he could get a glimpse of her. She hung limp against the harness holding her, her arms and her hair just fell forward, lifeless.
Zane forced panic out of his system as he reached down to unhook his safety harness. After a tug-of-war of brute force, Zane won. He slipped his arms from the belts, ignoring the pain, grateful he could move at all.
“Wake up, Caroline. Can you hear me?” She still hadn’t moved or said anything.
He worked his way up to Caroline’s seat, where she lay motionless against the belts. He didn’t see any blood or any obvious injuries but knew they could be internal.
He was reaching for her pulse when she moaned and moved slightly. Zane felt relief wash through him. She wasn’t dead.
But smoke was definitely filling the cockpit at an alarming rate. He needed to get them out of the plane immediately.
“Caro? Baby, can you hear me? We’re alive, but we’ve got to get out of here.”
He tried pulling at the release mechanism of her harness, but it was jammed. Breathing was getting more difficult.
Zane grabbed his army knife from his jeans pocket. Bracing his legs against the small side window, which was now on the ground, he used his strength to lift Caroline’s unconscious form, then sawed through the canvas of the harness belts.
It wasn’t an easy process. Even as light as she was, holding her dead weight up so he could cut the straps without cutting her took all his strength. The smoke was really becoming an issue. It was coming from the back of the plane, but once it hit the engines, this thing would be a fireball.
He felt one of Caroline’s arms brace herself on his shoulder, holding part of her weight. He looked up from where he was cutting the straps to see her green eyes peering down at him.
“Hey.”
“We’re alive,” she whispered.
“Yes. But it’s just a matter of time before the fire makes its way to the engines. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“You’re bleeding.” Her voice was tight.
He looked over at his arm where he’d been cut. “I’ll be fine. Push yourself up as far as you can.”
“I can only do it with one arm, I’m pretty sure the impact knocked my other shoulder out of joint.”
Zane muttered a curse. “Okay, just hang in there.”
She grimaced at his poor choice of words.
Cutting the side where she could hoist herself became much easier with her assistance. He had to brace his arm against her chest and push to get the other side. He could tell by her labored breathing that his actions were hurting her. When the last of the belts finally gave way, she fell heavily on him. He caught her as gently as he could.
“You okay?” She nodded and he put her gingerly on her feet and helped her gain her balance as he began to climb over the pilot seats. Both of them were coughing now.
“Let’s get out of here,” Zane wheezed. He grabbed his small backpack—it didn’t have much in it in the way of usefulness, but it was better than nothing.
He pulled himself up and through the flimsy cockpit door that had broken away and into the main cabin, reaching back to help Caroline. They could both see flames now.
“I’m fine,” she told him. “You get the outer door open. I’ll get myself out
of here.”
Zane nodded and proceeded to put all his effort into opening the door that would lead them outside. It was caught against the ravine wall and didn’t want to budge. When using his back and shoulders didn’t do much, Zane leaned his weight against one of the passenger seats and used the muscles in his legs to try to force open the door. Caroline made her way out of the cockpit and added her strength to the effort.
Damn it, they couldn’t survive the crash just to die here from smoke inhalation.
Their eyes stung and lungs burned, but finally the crushed door gave way on the hinge side and slid open enough for them to fit through. Zane steadied her as much as he could as they half ran, half stumbled away from the burning plane.
He knew the moment his livelihood blew up. The force literally swept them off their feet and threw them forward onto the ground. He heard Caroline cry out as her injured shoulder hit the ground hard. Zane wrapped his arm up over her head as pieces of the plane became projectiles all over the ravine.
The quiet after the explosion was unnerving. Both of them lay on the ground trying to catch their breath for a long while. Finally, Zane flipped himself over and sat up, gently helping Caroline to do the same.
She reached over and touched her injured shoulder, wincing. “Definitely out of the socket. It’s going to need to be put back in.”
That didn’t sound good in any way. “Like you running into a wall and knocking it into place?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen Lethal Weapon too many times. No, the acromioclavicular joint can be eased back into place with much less violence.”
He noticed she didn’t say with much less pain.
“You’re going to have to do it, Zane.”
“Hang on a second, I’m not the medical professional. You are.” Plus, the thought of hurting her made him almost physically ill.
“I can’t do it. It takes two hands to slip the joint back in properly.”
She was already looking pale, and he could tell every time she gave a residual cough from the smoke it was causing her more pain.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She took a step toward him. “Once you do it, it will hurt a lot less, believe me. And there’s no way I’m going to be able to climb out of here with a dislocated shoulder. Plus, the longer we wait, the more swollen and aggravated it will get. It’s an anterior dislocation, so that’s good.”
He didn’t know what that meant, but didn’t see anything good about it.
“I’m going to lie on the ground so there’s no weight on this shoulder.” He helped her get down on the ground as she explained what he needed to do. Which way to pull her arm and which way to twist once he did. He knelt down next to her injured arm.
She reached up with her good arm and pulled his face down so their foreheads were touching. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Remember, slow and easy, no quick, jerky movements.”
He shifted slightly and kissed her forehead. It was time to get this done so both of them could stop hurting. “Ready? One, two, three.”
Zane did exactly as she’d instructed, wishing to God roles were reversed so he could take the pain instead of her. He heard a broken sob come out of her mouth at the very last moment before the joint slipped back into place.
He wiped her hair off her brow as her breath shuddered out. But he could tell immediately by the way all the muscles in her body relaxed that she was in much less pain now.
“Thank goodness,” she murmured.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Not nearly as much as it did thirty seconds ago.”
They both sat there, just catching their breath.
“How about you? Are you okay? I know you have that cut on your arm.”
He looked down at it. “It’s already stopped bleeding.”
Zane did a physical inventory of the rest of his body. Everything seemed to be moving, even now that adrenaline wasn’t fueling all his thoughts and actions. No sharp or overwhelming pains, but a ton of little ones.
“You doing okay?” he asked her.
She grimaced and didn’t open her eyes. “My entire body hurts, but I don’t think I have any life-threatening wounds.”
“That’s basically how I feel.”
Now she opened her eyes. “But considering we just crashed into a ravine, I think we’re in pretty good shape.”
“Damn straight.”
They both sat up although neither of them were very interested in doing more. “How exactly did that happen anyway? I’m going to assume that us being shot at and then both engines of your plane blowing out on the same day are not a coincidence.”
Zane shook his head. “There’s no way in hell it’s a coincidence. If one engine had blown, I might have called it suspiciously bad luck. Both engines? That’s sabotage.”
They both stared off at the wreckage in silence for long minutes. “I know you didn’t have time to do a full walk-through before we took off, but did you see anything suspicious?”
“No.” Zane stretched his shoulders, trying to work out some of the stiffness. “I looked for obvious problems—leaking fluid that would signify cut lines—but didn’t see anything. But if someone knew about planes, there are easy ways—like putting sugar in the gas tank, which clogs the fuel lines as it dissolves—to bring a plane down.”
“Now we know why our shooter didn’t take any more shots at us. He wanted us to make it back to the plane.”
Zane nodded. “And now we know we’re likely dealing with more than one person. Someone with the rifle and someone who sabotaged the plane. And I don’t think it was coincidence that our rifle friend decided to wait until we were at the rappelling equipment before taking his first shots.”
Caroline grimaced. “He was leading us there.”
“Yep. And then that equipment just happened to be faulty? I don’t think so.” Zane shrugged and stood. “We’ve had two attempts on our lives today and neither of them have been by rifle shot. All the shots did was lead us where they wanted us to go. Someone wanted us dead but wanted it to look like an accident.”
He reached down a hand to help Caroline up also, careful of the arm that was still sore. “What happens now?” she asked.
“That Mayday you got off to the ranger station will give them a rough idea of where we are.”
“Yeah. I’ve studied the topography maps of Big Bend for weeks, and unfortunately, we are pretty far from any of the ranger stations.”
“And none of them have a helicopter or rescue plane just sitting around, I’m sure. Even if they go to the coordinates you gave them in the Mayday, we’re still twenty-five miles away from that. It’s going to take them a while to find us, even once they have the right equipment to do so.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear the way she’d always done when she was thinking. “We don’t have any supplies and a storm set is supposed to move in tonight. It’s part of the reason I studied the maps so extensively. I wanted to be able to change course as needed based on weather. Where we were before wouldn’t have been in the line of the storms, but here...”
“Then let’s get out of this ravine in case the storm does come our way. Climbing out of here when it’s dry is going to be hard enough.” He looked up and around them.
They were in a much more remote and rugged section of the park. No rappelling equipment would be found around here. They would have to take it very slowly and carefully up the steep walls of the ravine. It wouldn’t exactly be rock climbing, but it would be close.
Plus, they were overstimulated, hungry and tired. This wasn’t going to be fun.
“You ready to do this?” Zane asked as they found the least steep section of the ravine. It was still thirty feet, but at least not at a ninety-degree angle.
Caroline nodded.
“You go up ahead of me.” Zane wished he could go first, to help find good footing, but still be under her in case she fell. He couldn’t be in two places at once. “Just take it slow. Stop and rest whenever you need to.”
He looked up and over at the sky. Zane didn’t tell her that time was of the essence—it was getting dark and a storm would be coming in soon. Caroline already knew.
Too slow and they’d be halfway up the ravine and caught in the dark and a dangerous storm. Too fast and one or both of them might fall and seriously injure themselves.
She took her first steps toward the wall, walking at first, then hoisting herself as it became more vertical. They talked through different hand and foot holds, especially as they made it ten, then fifteen feet up the ravine.
A fall now could prove just as deadly as the crash had been. But Caroline never wavered. It was one of the things he’d always admired about her: her ability to focus, set her mind to a task and complete it. It made her one hell of a paramedic.
Not to mention her body had a toned strength to it now that she hadn’t had before. She’d always been slender, too skinny in his opinion, but not anymore. A couple of years ago she would’ve had a difficult time making it up this cliff, even despite her slight size.
But now she had a strength, in both her arms and legs. Even with the injured shoulder, he could tell by the way she was able to stretch, hoist herself up. To use both her arms and legs to lift her body weight. He’d noticed her strength earlier when the repelling gear had given way. Without her grasp on him, keeping herself supported, he wouldn’t have been able to get them both down safely.
He could see her lithe muscles moving under her pants and long-sleeve shirt and had to force the thought of what her body would look like now—no clothes at all—out of his head. Now wasn’t the time to be doing anything but focusing completely on the task at hand. Not that fantasizing about Caroline was ever appropriate.
About ten feet from the top of the ravine they came to a large crevasse in the rock. An opening big enough for them both. It gave them a chance to rest and sit down.
