Elly's Ghost

by John R. Kess

  Chapter 5

  Unlike his twin sister, Nick Wittenbel was huge, 220 pounds, most of which was muscle thanks to the years he’d spent in the weight room preparing for both the football and wrestling seasons. People rarely believed he and Elly were twins, which was just fine with him.

  Nick was shoveling in another mouthful of cereal while trying to fight off a massive hangover when the small television on his kitchen counter flashed his sister’s name above “Breaking news” across the bottom of the screen.

  As the broadcaster started to describe the situation with Elly’s plane, the spoon slipped out of Nick’s hand.

  The phone on the wall next to him rang, but he couldn’t move.

  * * *

  Nick sat next to his dad on the couch in the living room as they waited for more news. Nick’s mom, Joanna, paced back and forth in the kitchen as she attempted for the fortieth time to call Elly on her cell phone.

  The CNN broadcast cut from a still image of the type of plane carrying his sister to the newscaster, who said, “We have an update on the plane carrying pop singer Elly Wittenbel. Two F-16s from the Air Force base in Mountain Home, Idaho, have located the plane, still cruising at 30,000 feet toward Seattle. The plane’s door is missing. We are hearing they can see a person, believed to be male, inside. All attempts to make contact with the plane have failed.”

  “Come on, Elly, pick up the phone!” Joanna hit a button and held the phone up to her ear. Tears were forming in her eyes. After a moment she hung up and tried again.

  The newscaster introduced an aviation expert and asked, “With the door missing on a plane traveling at 30,000 feet, is there any chance people are still alive?”

  “It is highly unlikely that anyone on board is still alive. They would need an oxygen supply, and it is extremely cold at that altitude.”

  Mark put his head in his hands as Joanna came around to the front of the television and asked, “What did they just say?”

  No one said anything to her.

  “What did they say?” Joanna repeated.

  Nick glanced at his mother and then stared at the floor. “They said anyone on board the plane is dead.”

  Joanna shook her head and returned her attention to the phone. Her voice cracked as she said, “Pick up the phone, Elly!”

  * * *

  Following Belgrade’s instructions, the two men drove the van as far as they could on back roads and then fought their way on foot through miles of forest over several hours to locate the gutted, smoldering floatplane. The wing was now in two pieces, and the right half was angled down with the tip under the water.

  The men pushed the plane into the middle of the lake. One man shot holes in both pontoons. When it was clear the plane was sinking, the men swam to shore. By the time they changed clothes, the plane was resting on the bottom of the lake.

  Their instructions had been clear. Get rid of the floatplane so no one would know where it landed, then find the girl, quickly.

  After a short search, the men found footprints on the shore leading into the forest. They wasted no time following them.

  * * *

  Jay stopped at the top of large hill to look over the valley of thick trees stretching for miles in every direction. The summer sun cooked the forest, making every breath like inhaling steam. They’d been hiking for about three hours, and Jay knew they were making terrible time as they fought with the rocky ground, sharp brush, and low-hanging tree branches. There was no clear path, and when they weren’t zigzagging through tight clumps of prickly bushes they were ducking under branches and climbing over fallen tree trunks. The mosquitoes were thick and kept Elly busy trying to swat them with her cuffed hands. Jay used his GPS unit often to make sure they were still heading north. He knew when they left the valley there would be fewer trees but more rocks and an even more unforgiving terrain.

  At a rocky ledge too tall to step up onto, Jay scrambled and jumped to catch new handholds and pulled himself up. He turned to offer his hand to Elly and picked her off the ground and set her down next to him in one quick motion.

  He figured Elly must be in some kind of shock as she followed him without making a sound. Whenever he looked back her eyes were on the ground, like she’d been stripped of any emotion. Even when he offered her water, she said nothing as she took a drink and handed it back to him. He knew they had to put as much distance between them and the floatplane as possible, and he hoped she could keep going for a while.

  Jay continued creating a path where there was none, until they’d reached the valley floor. Jay could hear the chain on Elly’s handcuffs as she continued to slap at the flies and mosquitoes. The only communication between them had been grunts if one of them stumbled and the occasional gasp when the humid air became too much. Finally Elly broke her silence.

  “Hey, my feet are killing me. I need a break.” Elly flopped down on the ground. Jay watched her pull at the bloodstained and sweat-soaked T-shirt that clung to her. She examined the thousand tiny scratches on her arms, then struggled with her handcuffs to remove the small bottle from her pocket, poured two pills into her hand, and quickly swallowed them.

  Jay offered Elly his water bottle, and she gladly took a big gulp. She handed him the bottle and then fell back, covering her eyes with her forearm.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Elly groaned.

  “We’ll make it out of this,” Jay said.

  Elly frowned. “I can’t stop thinking about Kevin. I hope he’s okay. And I wish I could tell my family I’m okay. They must be so worried.”

  “Right now the only thing that matters is getting out of here alive,” Jay said. “You need to put anything else out of your head. Focus on what’s going on right here, right now.”

  “I’m going to fill the canteens,” Jay said. Even while dipping the containers into the peaceful forest stream and running the cool liquid through his water filter, Jay kept his rifle at arm’s reach. Just like when he was in Afghanistan, he wouldn’t leave his M16 for a second with a potential enemy nearby. He also kept Elly, who remained motionless on the ground, in view.

  “Hey, why were you at the airport?” Elly asked when he returned.

  “I was getting ready to fly out to some property my family owns out here. I was waiting for the airport controller to show up so I could file my flight plan. Then you arrived.”

  Elly nodded. “Are we near your property?”

  “No.”

  “Are we just hiking blind, or do you know a way out of here?”

  “I know the way.” Jay’s answer was quick and confident, like he intended, but he was telling only a half-truth. If they headed north, like they had been all day, at some point they’d get somewhere he would recognize. He’d flown over this area enough to know they were several days’ hike to the nearest road.

  Jay’s handheld GPS was a stripped-down version without any built-in maps. He’d been marking the trail every so often, but he had no reference points to know where they were going; he only knew where they’d been. The latitude and longitude numbers on the display meant very little when the map he was carrying was well outside the area they were in. He guessed, from comparing their current latitude on the GPS to the number on the map, they were twenty to thirty miles south of the hunting area his family owned.

  “Is it far?” Elly asked.

  Jay nodded. “It is. I’m not worried about where we’re going,” Jay said, as he picked up his rifle. “I’m worried about who might be following us.”

  Elly sat up. “That plane that flew over us was mine, wasn’t it?”

  Jay nodded. “They know where we landed.”

  “You think they can track us through all of this?”

  “We have to assume they can. I know it’s possible.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because the Marines trained me how to do it.”

  “You’re a Marine?”

  Jay nodded. “You’re looking at one rough-tough-can’t-get-enough M
arine.” For the first time Jay saw Elly smile, and he noticed that the few freckles she had nicely highlighted her brown eyes. “How are your feet doing?”

  “They’re sore, but I can keep going.”

  “Good. Let’s move.”

  * * *

  The Wittenbel house slowly filled with concerned friends and family, and Nick’s desire to get the hell out became overwhelming. The last thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by a bunch of people. He knew how this was going to end, and he didn’t want to be around when it did.

  Nick’s dad had been trying to calm his mom, but when news came that the plane had not begun its descent and had passed over Seattle, she began crying. Despite several relatives urging Mark and Joanna to go upstairs to get away from the television, they refused.

  An hour later, Nick stood at the back of the room as the broadcast showed a live map of the plane’s location 280 miles past Seattle and still heading west. The room had grown painfully silent, and numbness had spread through Nick, preparing him for what was inevitable. Elly’s plane would run out of fuel, and the people in the room would receive confirmation of what Nick already knew. His sister was dead. She was already dead, and her plane crashing into the ocean wouldn’t change that. No one could survive 30,000 feet in a plane missing a door. Nick knew some of the people in the room still hung onto hope, but others, he could tell, already knew the truth. They were just too polite to point out the obvious.

  Nick kept remembering the last time he saw Elly. It was at their dad’s fiftieth birthday party, and she was covering her mouth before she ran away crying. He felt a slight pain develop in his chest that worked its way up to his throat. He hated himself for what he’d said to her. And now he’d never be able to tell her how sorry he was for saying it.

  “We are getting reports from the F-16s that the starboard engine on the plane that is believed to be carrying Elly Wittenbel has shut off,” the news anchor announced. “The assumption is the plane is now running out of fuel. Hold on …We’ve just learned the plane has crashed into the Pacific Ocean.”

  Joanna collapsed onto the kitchen floor. “No, no, no! Not my baby! Not my Elly!” Joanna’s sisters quickly knelt beside her, circling her.

  Mark’s phone slipped out of his hand as he slumped against the pantry, just feet from his wife, then slid to the floor when his knees buckled. He buried his head in his arms.

  Nick was the only one in the whole house who wasn’t crying. He turned and walked out the front door. He stopped when he saw the small crowd gathered on the street in front of the house. A row of flowers lined the sidewalk, and a TV crew was parked nearby. A radio from somewhere in the crowd announced that the plane carrying Elly had crashed, and everyone turned to look at Nick. Many gasped and covered their mouths as they stared at him.

  Nick kept his face down as he cut across the lawn to his Ford Mustang. He felt all their eyes following him. The moaning and sobs from the crowd made him move faster. It reminded him again how Elly had been crying the last time he’d seen her. Nick knew he was the reason she’d been crying. The crowd watched as he slid into the driver’s seat and sped off. He was four blocks away when he swore again and again as he beat his hand on the steering wheel.

  * * *

  Jay stopped at the top of a cliff and glanced at his watch. They’d been hiking for about ten hours, and the sun was nearing the western horizon. Jay spotted a small clearing below, surrounded by large trees next to a small rushing stream. He figured it would cost them twenty minutes to go around, but there was no other way.

  “We have to stop,” Elly said firmly. “I can’t walk any more. This is ridiculous.”

  Jay wanted to put as many miles as possible between them and the floatplane before nightfall, but the terrain had become more difficult than he expected. Darkness would soon be their friend, but until then it was foolish to stop.

  “Can you make it another hour?”

  “No!” Elly said, loudly. Jay knew by the annoyed look on her face that it was not up for discussion. The site down below would at least have good cover.

  “Okay. Do you see that clearing?” Jay pointed. “We’ll set up camp down there. Follow me.”

  It took Jay longer than he’d thought to guide them through the dense brush and trees down to the clearing. Elly went right to the stream to splash water on her face and attempt to wash the dirt from her hands before she took another pill.

  She lay down in the tall grass. “I don’t ever want to move again.”

  Jay walked over and unwrapped the bandages from Elly’s feet. She didn’t complain and appeared to be in too much pain to do it herself. When he finished, he slid Elly over to the water’s edge and lowered her feet into the stream.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” Elly said.

  They ate raisins, venison jerky, and granola bars for supper.

  “How much food do we have?” Elly asked.

  “About a week’s worth, if we’re careful.”

  Jay found a spot for his small camouflaged tent under a clump of thick trees and set up his sleeping bag inside. He then convinced Elly to walk to the tent and lie down.

  Elly closed her eyes. “I know this is a stupid question, but you wouldn’t happen to have a key for these handcuffs?”

  “As a matter of fact.” Jay reached into his pocket.

  Elly sat up, instantly furious. “If you have one—”

  “No, I don’t have one.” Jay smiled.

  Elly picked up an empty raisin box and threw it at him. “I knew it was a stupid question.” She smiled as she lay back down and closed her eyes again.

  “I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” Jay said. “Don’t make any loud noises. Try to get some sleep.”

  Stepping outside the tent, Jay saw that the western sky was full of stars, and he knew they’d have a rain-free night. He walked in a circle around the tent, surveying the area. He found a well-covered spot overlooking the campsite. Jay rechecked that his rifle was loaded, made himself comfortable against a downed tree, and waited, listening for sounds of anyone following them.

  Chapter 6

  MONDAY

  The thick forest was perfectly still as a light fog lingered over it. The morning dew covered the cool ground, and the air was heavy with the smell of pine needles. The camouflage tent blended in nicely with the multiple shades of green leaves stretching in every direction.

  Jay’s eyelids grew heavy as the first rays of the sun broke through the trees. He forced himself back to an alert state of mind, but soon the desire for sleep returned, and his whole head dipped forward. He was curled up with his knees pulled tight to his chest to keep warm. His rifle rested against his shoulder.

  As Jay’s eyes closed, he remembered Ben cooking breakfast over a fire. Then the scene morphed to what had been described to him. He saw men firing their weapons without thinking as an elk ran across the horizon. Foolish men. Men who’d barely been out of a cubicle their whole lives, pretending for a weekend to be mountain warriors. Jay heard the zip of a bullet and the splintering of tree bark, followed by Ben screaming in pain as he fell over, clutching his stomach.

  Jay’s eyes opened when he heard a twig snap to his left and saw tree branches moving in the distance. Blood rushed to his head as he silently aimed his rifle, resting it on the rough bark of the branch in front of him. The sun was just high enough to be a big bright spot in his line of vision.

  Jay glanced toward the tent, then back to the trees. The branches moved again. Jay clicked off the safety. Whoever was approaching appeared to be alone and was moving toward their camp faster than before. Jay aimed for a chest shot as the leaves on the trees in front of him began to part. He took a breath and held it.

  A small deer appeared and stopped, staring back at Jay. The deer quickly turned and ran away as Jay exhaled. He let his head fall forward to rest on the branch.

  * * *

  The president of the United States spotted the White House from the air as the Marine HMX-1 S
ea King helicopter made its descent toward the landing pad. Although he was happy to be home after being in Tokyo for a three-day summit, the sight made him sigh heavily as he faced the task at hand.

  Once the helicopter was on the ground, the president was escorted inside, and he nodded to the secret serviceman guarding his daughter’s bedroom door. “How long has she been in her room?”

  “Ever since she got the news yesterday, Mr. President. She wouldn’t come out, so we’ve had to bring her something to eat.”

  The president had been thinking about what he’d say to Celeste about Elly Wittenbel’s death since one if his aides told him about the accident. He knew how much his daughter loved Elly and was certain she’d be devastated. He remembered feeling much the same way when John Lennon was killed. It didn’t help that the first lady had left for Europe the morning before Elly’s plane crashed, leaving Celeste to deal with the news alone.

  The president knocked on his daughter’s door but got no answer. He knocked again and then slowly opened the door a crack.

  “Celeste?” he said.

  “You can come in,” a soft voice replied.

  Celeste was curled up under a blanket on a small couch in the corner of her room. Her radio was playing quietly. Her aquarium was the only source of light in the room.

  “I missed you,” the president said. He sat down next to her as Celeste sat up and hugged him. He kissed her on the forehead. “I was sorry to hear about Elly. I know how much you liked her.”

  The president knew how hard it was for his daughter to make real friends at school. Celeste had found comfort in music and in relating to other young people who, like her, were targets of the media.