Torn Apart

by M A Comley

  He tapped the pilot on the shoulder and spoke through the headphone mic. “There, to the right.”

  The pilot angled the helicopter in the direction of the family, then he contacted the base to make them aware of the situation and arrange for extra backup.

  Hero heard the response that help was at least thirty minutes away. His heart started pounding when the realisation dawned on him that the family’s rescue would be down to him and Cara. As if reading his mind, Cara looked at him and grimaced. He reached out and patted her hand reassuringly. She shook her head and mouthed, “I can’t do this.”

  He raised her hand to his lips, kissed the back of it, and returned a nod. “Yes, you can. Follow my lead. Just remember people’s lives are at risk. They’re relying on us to get them safely out of there.”

  His sister swallowed hard and gave a brief nod before she closed her eyes. Hero knew she was setting herself up to deal with the circumstances.

  “Are you two ready for this? I’m going to assess the situation first. There’s a winch on board. We might be able to rescue the children, but the adults will have to wait for the larger helicopter to arrive.”

  “We’re ready for our orders, aren’t we, Sis?”

  Cara inhaled a large breath and nodded at the pilot.

  “Wow! You two are related? Not sure I’ve ever carried a brother and sister team on an emergency before.”

  Hero could tell the pilot was trying to put them both at ease with his banter. “We’re twins, actually. Not like ordinary brothers and sisters who tend to bicker all the time. Cara is one of my best friends.”

  The pilot smiled before he started the descent. Hero looked through the binoculars again and gave Cara and the pilot a running commentary. “I’m seeing two adults and three children. Two of the kids are in their early to mid-teens, while the little one—a girl, I believe—is around four or five. Not sure how they got up on the roof, but they seem to have made themselves secure up there, at least. Hey, maybe there’s a boat crew in the area. Just a thought if the other copter is going to be a while.”

  “Good idea. Base, this is Romeo Alpha…”

  While the pilot put in the call, Hero nudged his sister in the ribs. “You can do this, Sis. It’s going to be a doddle.”

  “I know. I’m almost there. Just a few gremlins to ditch, and I should be good to handle it. Leave me alone for a few minutes while I kick these suckers into touch.”

  “That’s my girl.” He watched his sister close her eyes for a second time and then picked up the binoculars again to scan the expanse in front of him, looking for more people needing to be rescued. A feeling of disappointment ran through him when his search came up blank. Surely this wasn’t the only family to have made it out of their home?

  The pilot broke into his thoughts. “There’s a team on the ground about five minutes away. They’re in a rescue dinghy. Can you locate them at all?”

  Hero shook his head. He hadn’t spotted the crew during his search seconds earlier. “Nope. Can’t see them yet. How are we going to tackle this? Rescue the kids and leave the parents for the ground team?”

  “That’s what I was thinking. There’s megaphone in the back. Use that to let the family know what’s about to happen.”

  The helicopter hovered over the roof. Hero opened his door and shouted down to the family, “How’s everyone doing? If there are any casualties, please point them out. If not, give me a thumbs-up?”

  The man on the roof, who was presumably the father of the family, gave the thumbs-up in return.

  Hero moved the winch out of the cabin and motioned for Cara to join him. She slid along the seat and glanced up at him for further instructions. He slipped one of the harnesses over her head and attached the winch to it. “If I could go myself, I would, but I think it’s better if you went down. You’re lighter, anyway.”

  Cara exhaled and inhaled deeply a few times as she got closer to the edge. “Nice and slowly, please.”

  “Of course. If you’re in any difficulty, point up with your thumb. I’ll winch you in right away. Slip this other harness over the smallest child first. Tell her to hold on around your neck. I’ll winch you up as fast as I can. It’s quite windy out there, and you’ll be in a kind of vortex from the blades too. So just hold tight to the winch cable whenever possible. Good luck, Sis. Remember the signal.”

  Cara nodded and eased herself away from the helicopter. Hero watched her twist in the wind and saw her nervously look up at him on more than one occasion.

  “Is she all right?” the pilot asked after a few seconds.

  “She’s doing great for someone who hates flying and heights.”

  “Damn, I had no idea. She’s got some balls. I’ll give her that,” the pilot said with admiration.

  “She has indeed,” he replied proudly as he watched Cara land on the rooftop alongside the stranded family. The father stood up and passed the little girl to Cara. The child was screaming and really didn’t want to leave her family behind. Cara gave the signal, and Hero pulled his sister and the girl back up. When they reached him, he gripped the child’s arms and hauled her aboard. She was no longer crying and smiled at him as he buckled her in the seat.

  “Everything all right?” he asked before engaging the winch a second time.

  “I’m actually enjoying myself. Come on, slacker, get me back down.”

  As he lowered her a second time, the pilot pointed out the window. “Looks like the cavalry has arrived. We’ll set the other members of the family in the dinghy. We don’t have room for everyone, anyway.”

  Hero called down to Cara, “We’ll drop you in the dinghy with the others, Sis. All right?”

  Cara glanced over to where Hero had pointed and gave the thumbs-up.”

  The whole rescue took over half an hour to complete, after which he pulled Cara back up into the helicopter. “Aww…I was enjoying that,” she said as she slipped off the safety harness and returned it to the storage hook.

  Hero laughed and motioned for her to take his seat alongside the little girl, while he sat on the floor opposite them.

  The girl smiled and cried at regular intervals, seemingly confused by the frightening experience. Cara leaned in close and asked her, “What’s your name, sweetie? I’m Cara, and this is my brother, Hero.” Hearing Hero’s name made the little girl giggle.

  “I’m Molly Granger,” the girl said shyly, tucking her chin into the collar of her little red coat.

  “Well, Molly, that was exciting, wasn’t it? Not every little girl gets to be rescued and fly in a helicopter.”

  “When can I see my mummy?”

  “In a short while, sweetheart. I promise.” Cara patted her knee.

  Hero watched his sister interact with the little girl and thought what a wonderful mother she would make one day, despite her insistence that she never wanted to have a family of her own. That was another thing that had united them through the years. He’d taken a lot of ribbing from his sister when he’d thrown in the towel and married Fay.

  The helicopter landed back at the car park and waited for the dinghy crew to arrive with the rest of Molly’s family. The ambulance team at the scene checked over the little girl and her family then gave them the all-clear, and a minibus transported them to a local community centre, where all the other rescued and displaced people were being looked after.

  Hero and Cara went out on seven more missions with the pilot that day and ended up rescuing over twenty people and two dogs. When they arrived back at the hostel where they were staying, they joined the rest of the team at the long table for a warming bowl of beef stew. After comparing rescue stories, everyone showered and turned in early for the night, tired from their exertions.

  In spite of being bone-tired, Hero struggled to sleep that night, what with the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He felt good, as if he’d achieved something remarkable. How many people could truly say they had saved someone’s life? Amongst them, his TA team had saved over a hundred pe
ople so far, and there was more to come the next day. The weather report for the following day said the air temperature was supposed to be higher.

  Hero’s thoughts drifted back to the case he still hoped to share with his TA pals. He doubted that would happen this weekend, though, which was a shame. He managed to slot some things into place that he wanted to chase up on Monday morning until he eventually drifted off to sleep at gone one in the morning.

  Someone’s travel alarm woke him at five thirty the next morning. The team leapt out of bed, ready to start another day of rescue. They bolted down a hearty breakfast and set off in their established groups. They travelled the deluged area continuously for the first three hours or so, and Hero noticed that the water appeared to have subsided slightly. They didn’t come across anyone else in jeopardy until just after noon. They spotted a young farmer on a slight hill, surrounded by a small flock of sheep.

  He was frantically waving his arms, trying to get the helicopter’s attention. When the pilot hovered near him, the sheep scattered, and the farmer ended up gesturing for the pilot to pull back.

  “Can we call for the dinghy crew to help us again?” Hero asked, trying to think of a viable option to get the farmer out of danger. By the look of him, he had no intention of leaving his flock, and Hero couldn’t blame him if they were the man’s livelihood. Farmers had it tough enough without having to deal with crap like this.

  “I’ll get on to it right away,” the pilot agreed.

  “How the hell will they get the sheep out of there?” Cara asked, looking down at the farmer and his fifty or so sheep, concern written all over her face.

  “I doubt they’ll be able to. I can see the poor bloke asking for a tent so that he can stay with the animals until the waters subside. There’s signs of it doing that already. However, this place won’t be totally clear and back to normal for a few weeks yet.”

  “They’re on their way,” the pilot informed them.

  Hero picked up the megaphone and relayed the information to the farmer. He returned a thumbs-up and waved them off. Hero wished him luck before closing and locking the door to the helicopter again.

  They searched their designated area one more time, and finding no other people or farm animals in distress, they returned to base at three in the afternoon. An hour later, they had boarded the coach and were heading home to their loved ones.

  “So, what do you think?” Cara asked about thirty miles into their trip.

  Hero frowned and scratched his head. “Sorry? About what?”

  “About my career dilemma, idiot. Oh, and I forgot to tell you something earlier,” she added cryptically.

  “What?”

  “Marc asked me to marry him again.”

  He turned in his seat to face her. “You’ve got to do it, Cara. He’s obviously one in a million. No other man would put up with your moods the way he does.”

  His comment earned him a thump on the arm. “Let’s just say that after the weekend we’ve had, I’m considering it.”

  Hero punched the air. “Yes. I can’t wait to tell Fay. She’s been banging on about you settling down, along with Mum, of course, for ages. You know how much women love a wedding—and a bride—to fuss over.”

  All Hero needed to do was dissuade Cara from being a bodyguard—and a copper, come to that. Although given the choice, he would rather she join the force with him so that he could keep an eye on her. Their journey home ended up being a reflective one since they both remained silent and thoughtful.

  • • •

  On Sunday evening, at around nine o’clock, the woman went upstairs to her bedroom to get ready to instigate the plan she had been churning over in her mind for the past forty-eight hours or so. She fancied being blonde that night. She pulled the long blonde wig from its hook then wiggled it onto her scalp and stroked down any stray hairs before she brushed it. As she admired the way the shade brought out the colour of her smoky-grey eyes, excitement twitched in her tummy. She chose a simple ensemble of a slim-fitting taupe pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees and a loose cream-coloured blouse. She went to the shoe section of her wardrobe and picked out a pair of three-inch-heel black court shoes. Slutty attire wasn’t on the menu tonight; smart but casual was instead. Her attire was all part of her master plan.

  Satisfied by her appearance, she rang a local taxi firm she hadn’t used before and ordered a cab to pick her up on the corner of the road adjacent to her home in twenty minutes’ time.

  The taxi driver dropped her off at the edge of the estate, and not wishing to hang around longer than necessary, the driver screeched away before she had the chance to slam the back door shut.

  She snuck up to the corner where she knew the girls would be waiting for punters. A shudder crept through her, not because the evening had a chill about it, but because the anticipation of what lay ahead both excited and scared her. A car slowed down beside her; she’d let down her guard and hadn’t heard it pull up. The slamming car door broke her concentration. She turned sharply to find a youth approaching her with an amused but wary look on his face.

  “Spying, are ya?”

  She cleared the blockage in her vocal chords before she answered him. She laughed, then said shyly, “You caught me.” She turned to face him and watched the way his hungry eyes leered at her slim body in the dull light of the night. There were no nearby lights to show off the tinge of embarrassed colour that she knew must have risen up in her hot cheeks.

  “Doing what exactly?” he snarled, closing the gap between them.

  Instinctively, she reached for the handbag draped over her shoulder and slipped her hand inside. She curled her hand around the weapon, ready to defend herself.

  The youth didn’t seem to notice because his eyes were still leering at her shapely legs. He came to a stop beside her and leaned his shoulder against the wall. He put his hands in his pocket, and as her eyes dropped, she saw that he had started playing with himself.

  “I was intrigued by the girls. That’s all.”

  “Intrigued as in you want a good time with them? Ever done it with another girl? You look as though you’ve been around a bit.” He looked serious when he made the comment, as though he hadn’t meant it as an insult but as a compliment.

  “No, never done it with another girl. As for the other cheeky comment, I wouldn’t say I’ve been around that much. What about you? Why are you here?” she asked bravely.

  “I’m looking after my girls.”

  “Your girls. What does that mean?”

  “My girls. I own those slags. They screw the punters, and I get a cut from it. If you’re up for a threesome, I can give you a good deal—a discount, if you like.” His hand moved more vigorously in his pocket, and a toothy smile stretched across his mouth.

  Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back down. The thought of him touching her was beginning to repulse her. Luckily, he seemed more intent on touching his own manhood than her, for the time being.

  “Can I think about it?” she asked, although she was thinking quickly about something else.

  He shook his head and laughed. “It’s a one-time-only offer, baby. Now or never. Shall I call one of the girls over? There’s a hotel I like to use just around the corner.”

  “I’m not sure.” She teasingly ran a red-painted false fingernail across her matching-coloured lips and watched his hand rub his cock faster.

  “Go on. I promise you’ll have a good time.” He leaned towards her for a kiss.

  She turned away shyly and looked over her shoulders at the whores on his payroll, while her mind galloped quicker, working out her next movements.

  She heard, then felt him shuffle up behind her, and she tried not to stiffen. With the sweetest smile glued in place, she turned back to face him. “I like to know what I’m getting first.”

  Confused, he scratched his head. “Huh?” Her eyes drifted down to his crotch, and he cottoned on to her meaning instantly. “Ah, I see.”

  Both of
his hands came out of his pockets, and he unzipped the zip on his jeans. When his cock sprang loose, she gasped, playing up her part. His eyes widened at what he obviously thought was her unexpected excitement. “What’s your name?” she whispered.

  “Why? You like to know the name of the person fucking you?”

  Her skin crawled, but she kept the broad smile firmly in place as she nodded. “That’s right.” Looking down and then back up into his brown, confident eyes, she added, “Big boy.”

  Thinking she’d given him the go ahead to maul her, the youth pounced. He placed his hand on the back of her head and forced her face down towards his crotch. “It’s Jez Barrett. Now that we’re acquainted, suck me,” he ordered.

  She pulled back slightly. During the enforced movement, her hand had slipped out of her handbag. She needed to distract him enough for her to regain access to it. “Honey, it would be so much better if you dropped your jeans for me.”

  The words had only just left her lips when he leapt into action. Using both hands, he grappled with the button on his Levis, and she took the opportunity to dip her hand into her bag again.

  “There. Now do your stuff. Show me what you’ve got, and I’ll consider putting you in my team.”

  “Really?” She looked up at him and fluttered her eyelashes. She couldn’t tell if he could see her or not in the dim light, but she didn’t care. She knew he was off-guard. She placed one hand around his dick, and he leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed as he anticipated her next movement.

  “Get on with it.” His voice trembled with expectancy.

  In the sexiest voice she could muster, she said, “Here I come, baby.”