Just Enough Light

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Just Enough Light Page 13

by AJ Quinn


  She heard the horror in Dana’s voice but couldn’t deny the truth. “Yes, just a bit younger than I was. What’s important is we all survived what we encountered living on the streets, and it was far better than what we left behind.”

  “What did Cody leave behind?”

  “Cody never knew her dad. There were men around, but never for long and never the same one. She’s never mentioned whether there were any siblings, but I do know her mother died of a drug overdose. It happened not long after she tried to sell Cody to her boyfriend of the moment so she could buy enough to ease whatever demon was haunting her.”

  “And Ren?” Harrison asked.

  Kellen closed her eyes as an involuntary shudder ran through her. “I’m sorry. Ren’s story isn’t mine to tell. Over the years, she’s shared bits and pieces with me. I don’t know all of it, but what I do know is bad.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Harrison said. “My people can do their jobs and get me whatever information we’ll need to determine if there’s a connection. I’m sorry if too many ghosts are disturbed in the process. Sorrier still because I have to head back to Washington now. But before I go, I’m going to take care of the FBI. They won’t harass you again,” he said as he picked up his coat. “But I need you to do one thing in return.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Until this matter is settled, if anything comes up, if you need help of any kind, I need to know you won’t run. Instead, I expect to hear from one of you. Do I have your word?”

  “Yes, all right.” She was shocked to hear herself say it.

  As he squeezed her shoulder one last time, his eyes held only approval and warmth. “Be good to yourself, Kellen. You’ve got strong support here. There’s no shame in leaning on them until this is over. Annie, love, why don’t you walk me out to the car?”

  After Annie and her father left the room, Dana turned to Kellen and smiled. “Wow. He’s quite a force of nature, isn’t he?”

  Kellen nodded. “He is that. I just can’t believe—”

  “Can’t believe what?”

  “I can’t believe he’s known who I am from the beginning. And yet he still trusted me. Financially, by backing the business idea, and with Annie. He trusted that I wouldn’t hurt Annie.”

  “He’s obviously a good judge of character,” Dana said. “If I can ask, what happens now?”

  “At this point, I’m guessing you can ask me anything, Dana. But I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Really? I can ask you anything?”

  “Yes. And don’t ask me why because that’s one thing I can’t answer. Just tell me what it is you want to know.”

  “All right, but I reserve the right to come back to this later.”

  Kellen would have laughed if she didn’t hurt so badly. “Fine.”

  “I guess I’d like to know what happens now that the genie is out of the bottle. Do you stay as Kellen Ryan or do you start using a different name?”

  Kellen didn’t immediately respond as she struggled to find the right words. “I believe a life-altering experience changes you so much that going back to who you were is impossible. And who I was—that person, that life doesn’t exist anymore. Time moves forward, not backward,” she said. “I’ve used many names since I left home. And as the senator said, there are no guarantees in life, so only time will tell. But for now, I’m happy being Kellen.”

  “I’m glad. As it happens, I like Kellen Ryan. Quite a bit,” Dana murmured. “But just to be clear, who you were? That life still exists. Time does move forward, but that doesn’t mean the past goes away.”

  “I know. But it’s not something I’m prepared to think about right now.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The call came in just after three in the afternoon. “Alpine, we’ve got a report of a slide near Baker’s Pass. Witness reports at least six snowmobilers buried.”

  In the process of touring Liz through Incident Command, Dana stopped, watching and listening as the center switched into action.

  “Dispatch to Ryan.”

  Almost immediately, she could hear Kellen’s voice, “This is Ryan, copy.”

  “Kel, we’ve got a slide near Baker’s Pass. Near as we can tell, it was triggered by some kids high-marking. We’ve got a hysterical witness saying at least six buried, but it could be more. Time three-oh-eight.”

  “Copy,” Kellen replied. “Page out team one and whoever else you can reach. Tell Sam I’ll meet her at the helipad with Bogart in less than two.”

  “You’re letting Kellen go out?” Dana asked quietly.

  “She’s our best avalanche searcher and Bogart will only let Kel handle him,” Annie responded. “I know there’s a risk, but there’s really no option here. We’ve got kids missing.”

  “Of course.” Dana didn’t think twice. “What can Liz and I do to help?”

  “On an avalanche rescue? Honey, Kellen will take every person she can get and we’re on the clock.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Every minute a person is buried in an avalanche, the chance of survival drops one to two percent. Are you up for it?”

  The instant Dana and Liz agreed, they were handed bright red jackets, backpacks, and radios, then directed to the helipad. They got there just as the first helicopter lifted off. A minute after that, they were sitting inside the second helicopter along with several members from rescue team one.

  Dana had flown before, but always on a large commercial airliner. Never on anything so small. And certainly never on anything that looked like it was skimming the treetops. But as she looked around and tried not to think about it, she caught the grin on Liz’s face. “Bring back memories?”

  “Oh yeah. Not all good, but I’m more than okay with this. It’s no different than being on a roller coaster. Try to breathe, okay? You’ll find it helps.”

  Dana grinned wryly. “Did I ever mention I’m not a fan of roller coasters?”

  Breathing slowly and trying to relax, Dana listened to the pilot talking to someone, debating the best approach. Looking around, she noticed each member of the team had a different way of coping with the nervous anticipation as they found themselves en route to a rescue. Some sat quietly, some fidgeted, others chattered nonstop.

  Dana turned to Tim. “Any idea what Annie meant by high-marking?”

  “It’s a sport after a fashion, I guess, when a person on a snowmobile tries to ride as far up a steep mountain slope as possible, then turns around and comes back down the hill without getting stuck or rolling their snowmobile,” Tim answered.

  “Whatever for?”

  “The height of the arching track left in the snow sets the mark, and then everyone else tries to surpass the height of the original arch.”

  “God save us from alcohol-fueled games,” Liz interjected.

  “True enough, because it’s not just the kids that get caught up in it,” Gabe said. “The problem is that optimum high-mark terrain is typically in areas where avalanche danger is extremely high. And if you climb a slope from the bottom without first assessing the snow stability, you are playing a game of Russian roulette. That’s why high-marking accounts for more than sixty percent of the avalanche fatalities involving snowmobilers.”

  “Sweet Jesus,” Dana mumbled and shivered while muted conversations continued to flow around her. Drawing her jacket closer, she tucked her hands in her pockets.

  Gabe smiled in sympathy. “Even with the heater on full blast, it’s always cold traveling like this in winter. I think it’s to make up for being too hot in the summer.” He reached behind Tim, then dropped a blanket over her shoulders.

  “Thanks.”

  Eventually, all conversation ceased as the helicopter banked, then landed with a gentle lurch. It stayed stationary long enough for everyone to get out before heading back to pick up more searchers.

  Ducking until she was safely standing away from the helicopter, Dana got her first view of the massive field of avalanche debris. She wasn�
�t certain what she’d expected, having never seen one up close before, but the field seemed enormous and looked like slabs of concrete that had been broken up.

  Awestruck, she asked, “Is it always this big?”

  “This is actually pretty average,” Tim responded. “The average avalanche is two to three feet deep at the fracture line, about one hundred fifty feet wide, and will fall about four hundred feet in elevation. And the average duration for a slide of this size is less than thirty seconds. That means it catches and kills most backcountry travelers that happen to be in its path.”

  Dana stared back at the field with a greater sense of the damage it could cause. For an instant, she imagined what it had been like when the giant slab of snow and ice broke off and came down on a group of kids just having fun. Pushing the unwanted images from her mind, she looked around and spotted Kellen partway up, scanning back and forth over the field.

  They hadn’t spoken much since the senator left, taking the FBI agents with him. Kellen had mostly spent time with the girls and Bogart, and no one blamed her for wanting some time to regroup. To heal the wounds that had been reopened. But Dana found herself missing her and wishing things could get back to normal, whatever that might be.

  “What’s Kellen doing?”

  “Her first responsibility is for the safety of all field personnel, so she’s assessing the risk of additional avalanches,” Tim explained as he helped her take her avalanche beacon and probe from her backpack. “But she’s also looking for any distinguishable tracks entering or exiting the slide area. Or any clues lying on top of the debris. Anything she didn’t see when she and Sam did their flyover.”

  Moments later, Kellen worked her way down to them, quickly organizing, instructing, and dispatching groups of searchers, before stopping in front of Liz and Dana.

  “Hey, thanks for coming out to help.” Kellen cocked her head ever so slightly toward the avalanche field. “Are you ready for this?”

  Kellen felt inordinately pleased when Dana answered, “Just tell us what you want us to do.”

  “According to the witness, some of the kids had beacons, so you’re going to be looking for a signal indicating the rough position of a victim. If you hold your avalanche beacon like a compass, flat and straight out in front of you, it will give you both an idea of direction and distance to the beacon you’re searching for.” Kellen quickly demonstrated. “If you find someone, put your probe in to mark the position.”

  “What do we do if we find someone?” Liz asked.

  “Call out on your radio then start to dig. Rather than going straight down on top of the victim, move slightly downhill and dig in horizontally to them. That way, you won’t collapse any airspace they may have or cause snow to topple into a vertical hole on top of them. Once you’ve extricated them, you’ll need to quickly check the victim for clogged airways and any life-threatening injuries.” She stopped as she realized who she was talking to. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

  Dana and Liz both laughed. “No worries. How long do you think this will take?”

  “Minutes. Hours. Days. Searches can go any which way. There’s no predicting.” Kellen shrugged. Beside her, Bogart started to whine with apparent impatience.

  “Looks like someone wants you to get going.”

  Kellen nodded. “He knows he’s here to work. He’s trained to find human scent coming up from the snowpack and he’ll search until he finds where that scent’s coming up. He’ll alert, then start digging where that scent’s the strongest.” She paused for an instant. “Stay sharp. I’ve posted a lookout for any secondary slides, but that doesn’t mean you can take any unnecessary chances. And above all, don’t make me have to look for you. Okay?”

  Kellen walked away, aware both Dana and Liz were watching her. Beside her, Bogart barked, quivering with anticipation. “Okay, boy, ready? Let’s search.”

  Bogart took off in the direction Kellen had indicated, while she followed more slowly.

  The first victim was quickly found. Kellen started to dig him out, which was not easy as the snow around him was extremely hard and packed in. Others arrived to help, and before long, they uncovered a boy, maybe sixteen. He was shaking and scared, but able to communicate.

  While she checked him over, he told her he thought there were two others close to him. “And I think there are a couple of others downslope from me. At least, that’s where they were the last time I saw them.”

  A group of searchers, including Dana and Liz, immediately broke off and began to dig where the boy indicated, while Kellen and Bogart resumed the search for other victims. But it was not an easy task.

  With time, they discovered two more victims, far apart and buried very deep in the snowpack. As luck would have it, they’d gotten tangled in debris from trees caught by the slide, which had created air pockets and enabled them to survive. But both were bleeding and had suffered a number of broken bones. And one complained of acute abdominal pain, suggesting internal damage as well.

  Kellen sent Liz back to the clinic with the three wounded to oversee their transfer to a hospital in Denver. She would have preferred to send Dana, who was looking pale and tired. But as long as hope remained, any additional survivors would need the most experienced medical team she could provide.

  Four hours later, the original group of searchers were cold, aching, and fatigued. Kellen knew she should have called off the search until morning. But no one wanted to stop. Not with two kids still missing.

  Thankfully, they’d been joined by a group of fresh volunteers. Townspeople. Friends of the missing boys. They distributed hot coffee, listened as Kellen directed them by the glow of Maglites, then everyone silently pitched in.

  Hope springs eternal. But it was still too late. Kellen knew in her heart that it had taken too long. Slowly and without formality, the focus of the searchers shifted from rescue mode to recovery until the final two victims were found. Unresponsive. Not breathing, no pulse. And nothing anyone could do would change the outcome.

  Dejected, physically hurting, and tired, Kellen hung her head for a moment, trying to catch her breath, while Bogart leaned against her leg. Arms wrapped around her from behind. “Kellen, don’t,” Dana murmured.

  She turned but stayed in Dana’s arms. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t play what-if. What if you’d gotten to this spot sooner? What if these boys hadn’t decided to high-mark? Everyone did their best. That’s all anyone can ask. And as a doctor, I can tell you it wouldn’t have made a difference if we had found those boys five hours ago. Not with the injuries they suffered.”

  “You’re right, of course. Hell, that’s the speech I give to searchers every time out. But it’s still hard. And they were just kids.” Kellen released a sigh. “How are you holding up?”

  Dana laughed. “I could use a three-hour massage. Didn’t you once promise to give me an awesome rubdown?”

  Kellen tried to clench her raw hands and couldn’t. “Damn. Would you take a rain check?”

  “What the hell did you do to your hands?”

  “I went through two pairs of gloves.” Kellen grinned weakly. “Turns out I didn’t have a third pair.”

  *

  Too tired to think of food, Dana stood in the shower for a long time, then dressed in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, lit a fire, and collapsed on her sofa. She welcomed the warmth from the bright flames, loved how the smoke scented the air. Half dozing, she was giving consideration to warming up a can of soup when she heard a soft knock on her door, followed by a sharp bark.

  Smiling, she opened the door. Bogart bounded in and settled in front of the fireplace, leaving Cody, Ren, and Kellen at the door. The two girls held covered trays that smelled suspiciously familiar and wonderful, while Kellen held a large thermos in freshly bandaged hands.

  “Sorry about Bogart. Some days he has no manners,” Kellen murmured.

  “Not a problem. Come on in,” Dana said. “How did you know I was just thinking of food?”

  �
�You’re as bad as this one,” Ren said indicating Kellen. “Thinking about food doesn’t make it magically appear.”

  “Sure it does,” Dana fired back. “You’re here with food, aren’t you?”

  Kellen laughed. “Don’t bother trying to argue, Ren. She’s got you beat.”

  Ren grinned good-naturedly. “Okay. Cody and I have tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Kel has a thermos of brew.”

  “She means coffee,” Kellen translated in response to Dana’s questioning look.

  “Brew. Coffee. Makes perfect sense to me.”

  While the girls uncovered the trays and filled cups with coffee, Dana watched the firelight playing on Kellen’s face. For some reason, tired and relaxed, wearing well-worn jeans and a black turtleneck, Kellen had never looked as breathtakingly beautiful. It made Dana wish they were alone, and for an instant, she imagined taking her mouth in a long, slow, leisurely kiss she would feel all the way to her soul.

  Sighing, she moved away. “Let’s eat.”

  *

  Memory hit clear and fast, and fear rushed back in. She was twelve. Sitting in a sun-drenched living room, listening to birdsong coming from a tree just outside the window.

  A man entered the room. Tall, broad-shouldered. Handsome. Striding toward her, calling out her name.

  The sun momentarily blinded her, but she knew who he was. Her father. She felt his seething rage—and something else that made her instinctively afraid. He was muttering to himself. Saying things. Things she didn’t understand.

  An instant later, it no longer mattered. She tasted blood from her freshly split lip as he struck her, knocking her to the floor. She felt him tear at her clothes and kick her legs apart. Felt the pain as it exploded through her body. No. She screamed and tried to twist away. Panic gripped her throat and she fought, striking out with legs and arms. Her lungs tight, she tried to breathe. But it was hopeless.

  Kellen jolted, instantly awake. Her breathing was hard and fast and her heart was pounding, but the images from the dream were already muddled and blurred.

 

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