by Clare Revell
“For now. If too much of that ash gets into the engines, we’ll go down.”
She froze. “What?”
“Shh.” Micah switched to Tiampian and spoke rapidly to reassure the passengers. He banked, taking the most direct route to the base. He grabbed the mic. “Achor base, this is Micah, and we got a problem.”
“Yes, we know. You’ll have to hold until the runway is clear. Everything we have is taking off right now, but we’ll hold the last plane for you to land.”
“Jolly decent of you.” He put the mic down and looked at Jael. “You OK?”
She nodded.
“Crossed something else off your bucket list I assume.” His hand touched hers.
She laced her fingers into his for a brief moment, taking comfort from his touch. Was the fear she felt mirrored by what she saw in his eyes? “Actually, this wasn’t on my bucket list at all.”
“Nor mine.” He squeezed her fingers, then took his hand back, gripping the controls. The plane jerked and he altered course slightly. “We’re fine,” he told her.
Wishing she believed him, Jael gripped the seat, praying the rest of the flight. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this scared. Had she ever been? Even during the earthquake she’d been grounded in the knowledge that should the worst happen, it’d be quick, but now?
The base came into sight underneath them, and Micah’s reluctance to hold grew. “Achor, this is Micah. I really need to land. Now. Running low on fuel. So you either give me a space, or I land in a field and we’re one less plane.”
“OK, land now.”
“Thank you.”
He lined up with the edge of the runway and came in straight and true without a single bump. He taxied direct to the hanger by the fuel tanks and parked the plane inside the building. “I’ll refuel and meet you inside.”
“Can you refuel in here?” she asked, glancing around the enclosed space.
“It’s not advised in the manual, but right now it’s a heck of a lot safer than out there, wouldn’t you say?”
Jael nodded. “Be careful.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “Always honey.”
Jael ran to the main building, passing a load of people scrambling onto a small plane with engines running. Ash fell around her and the sky overhead darkened as the clouds of death grew.
Danny appeared to be in panic mode. “Jael, thank the Lord you’re back. Grab what you can from your room, then pack up the clinic—”
Zeek shook his head from where he sat hunched over a laptop. “There’s no time. The readings are no good and getting worse.”
Another plane took off and one landed. Jael glanced out of the window. Lightning flashed in the huge ash plume rising from the volcano. “How much worse can it get?” she wondered. But she didn’t get a reply.
Steve rushed into the room, his feet barely touching the ground. “OK, the boats have arrived and need to leave fairly quickly. Can we take the people down to the harbor to be transferred to the navy vessels?”
Kevin breezed in. The man didn’t even look flustered, as if this happened every single day. “The clinic is empty of patients now. Jael, can I have a word?”
“I’m going to get my stuff. Danny wants us all out.”
Kevin grabbed her arm. “And I need a word. Now.” He pulled her into the dispensary. As he turned to face her, his face changed. His eyes narrowed and darkened, an expression of pure hatred filling every crease and pore. “What did you say to Danny?”
Terror ran rampant through her. “When?” she managed, wondering if she could bolt past him and into the hall without him grabbing her. “I’ve said lots of things to him…”
“He fired me.”
“What?” She swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat. She hadn’t wanted that to happen.
Kevin took a step closer. “He fired me. No references, no nothing, and it’s all down to you.”
“Me?” Jael took a step sideways, her terror rising as he encroached on her personal space.
Kevin moved swiftly, backing her into a corner, one arm blocking her exit, the other running down her arm.
“What are you doing?”
“The way I figure it, you owe me. All I wanted was one kiss. You said stop and I did. And for that you make a formal complaint and I get fired? That hardly seems fair to me.”
The ground under her feet moved as another tremor hit. She lost her balance.
Kevin caught her, gripping both arms tightly and pulling her towards him.
“Get off me.” She raised her voice, hoping someone would hear it, praying for the strength to fight him off it that’s what it came to.
“Retract it,” he demanded. He shook her.
“Or what?” Jael raised her gaze to his, keeping her voice as steady as she could.
Kevin’s hand slid to her waist and he kissed her.
Jael bit down hard on his tongue, and brought her knee up hard and fast.
Kevin swore, clutching himself tightly as he fell to the floor.
The dispensary door opened and Micah ran in. “Jael? I heard you…” he broke off and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m fine.”
“Did he try something?”
“She kicked me,” Kevin managed, as he rolled on the floor in obvious pain.
“Not hard enough,” Jael muttered. “Just ignore him.”
A huge tremor struck. Bookcases along the wall toppled. Micah grabbed Jael, dragging her to the door frame and protecting her with his body. The wall beside them cracked and the ceiling fell with a shower of dust and debris. A beam hit Kevin, cutting off his cry of pain.
Jael tried to get to him.
“Leave him,” Micah said, holding onto her.
“I can’t.” She tugged free.
Micah grabbed her, pulling her backwards as another beam fell. This one caught his arm, tossing him to the floor.
The movement stopped and Jael spun around. “Micah, where are you?”
“Over here.” The voice came from her left.
She tossed the polystyrene ceiling tiles to one side, uncovering a dusty Micah. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, rising from the dirt, looking like something out of a horror film. “What about you?”
“I’m fine.” She glanced around. “Where’s…”
“Kevin’s dead. Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand and pulled her from the remains of the room.
Danny stood by the office door. “Are you two all right? Where’s Kevin?”
“We’re fine,” Micah said. “Kevin’s dead, the ceiling fell on him.” He took a deep breath. “He’d tried…”
Jael squeezed his fingers. “It’s nothing,” she whispered. “He’s dead, no point making things any worse.”
Danny nodded, either not hearing or choosing to ignore her comment. “We need to leave now. Everyone else from the base has gone. Steve’s taking us. You go with Micah…”
“What about the locals?” Jael asked.
“The navy and army are evacuating them,” Danny said. “It’s not my problem.”
The radio cracked.
“Leave it.”
“I can’t…” Jael ran into the office and picked up the mic. “This is Achor base.”
“This is Mr. Steveton. The road’s gone. We can’t get out.”
“We’ll come and get you.”
Zeek shook his head. “You don’t have time. The readings show you have minutes, an hour at the most.”
Micah looked at her. “I hate to agree honey, but I can’t risk it. Not in this ash cloud.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Her hands screwed into fists. “We can’t let them die out there. We could pick them up on the way to Bantu. It’s not that far.”
Micah hesitated, and Jael could see the anguish of decision in his eyes. Then he sighed. “OK, but we go now. You’ll have to leave everything behind.”
“One minute.” She grabbed her pack containing the ropes, tent p
egs, and basic first aid stuff. Shoving a couple of syringes, vials, and pill boxes into it, she nodded. “OK, ready.”
****
Micah ran with Jael to the hanger, grateful he’d left the plane there. He was also thankful for the full fuel tanks. That didn’t make her any less insane or this plan any less harebrained than it was. Around them, the ash fell like snow. The sky was dark, filled with foreboding and flashes of lightning.
Scrambling aboard the plane, he did the preflight checks as quickly as possible without missing anything.
Jael strapped herself in. “Will the engines start?”
“Start, yes,” he replied. “That’s why I put her in here. Will she fly in that ash? That’s another kettle of fish entirely.” He turned the engines on and taxied to the hanger doors.
Steve’s plane hurtled down the runway and took off, gaining as much height as possible to rise above the ash cloud.
“We’re only going to get one shot at this.” He left the hanger and accelerated down the runway, not bothering with his usual routine of taxiing down and turning. As soon as he had enough speed, he pulled back on the controls, praying hard that he wouldn’t stall. If he stalled now, they were a dead stick.
Ash hit the windscreen, the wipers making little difference. He couldn’t see a thing and hated having to rely totally on the instruments.
“It’s so high,” Jael whispered.
She reached over and gripped his hand, the simple touch unnerving him and sending his mind places it had no business going especially not in a survival situation.
“I need to concentrate, honey,” he said.
“Sorry.”
He squeezed her hand for a moment before returning to the controls. “Don’t be sorry. Ash is worse than snow to fly in. You know it’s not ash as in bonfires, right? It’s actually tiny, microscopic pieces of rock. You inhale it and it mixes with the moisture in your lungs and becomes concrete. Just a few pieces can rip an engine to shreds.”
“I didn’t know that.” Her voice was quieter than it had been as she took more photos on her phone.
He banked to the right, not liking the way the engines were struggling in the ash. “I want to talk about what happened just before we left. Did Kevin hurt you?” he asked again.
“No. He tried, but nothing happened.”
“Are you sure?”
She looked at him. “He grabbed my arms and kissed me. I bit his tongue and then kicked him. Nothing he didn’t deserve.”
Micah smirked. “Remind me to always ask permission before I kiss you in the future.”
Her eyes glimmered slightly, before she looked down. Did she feel the same regret he did at the man’s death? Or was she, like him, numb and unable to react because of the scale of the disaster unfolding around them? Either way, they’d both have to talk properly and in detail later. To the authorities if not to each other, because her resignation and official complaint would demand an investigation despite Kevin’s death.
Below them, the lava flow spread as far as the eye could see, engulfing the entire Steveton plantation and the house.
“We’re too late,” Jael whispered. Tears trickled down her face.
“We have to get out of here and head to Bantu.”
“We have to look for them. Maybe they got away.”
“Look where? The whole thing has gone.” His gut twisted as the engines missed again. “Let’s just get out of here before the volcano claims us, too.”
“But…”
“No buts,” he snapped. “Just let me pilot and plan the route for once.”
“OK.”
He turned back to the controls, banking away and heading to the coast. The port engine spluttered and died.
“Micah?”
He tried to restart it. The starboard engine spluttered. “Don’t do this,” he hissed. He pulled back on the controls, trying to gain height. If he could get above the ash cloud, then perhaps he could restart—
Silence filled the cockpit as the second engine died.
“Brace yourself, we’re going down.” He peered through the ash-scarred window. “I can’t see a thing and the instruments aren’t working.”
The plane hit a bank of trees as it plummeted from the sky.
Jael screamed.
Micah struggled to control the descent, trying to keep the nose up as the plane came down hard. It skidded and flipped as it crashed into the trees, finally hitting the ground and coming to rest against a rock.
10
Jael opened her eyes. Every part of her body hurt. She sucked in a deep breath, crying out in pain. OK, stick to little breaths. She unfastened her straps, mentally checking herself over. Apart from her breathing and intense chest pain, she seemed to be all right. “Micah?”
There was no answer. She turned to her side, biting her lip in pain. Micah sat slumped over the controls. Jael reached out and checked the pulse in his neck. He was alive. She shook his shoulder. “Micah?”
He groaned as his eyelids fluttered.
Jael immediately snapped into work mode, her own pain set aside for the time being. “What hurts?”
“Leg.” Pain-filled eyes regarded her from a too-pale face.
She felt down his leg and grimaced as her hand came away damp. “OK, let’s get you out of the seat first.” She undid his straps and grabbed his shoulders. “Don’t help me here, not until I know exactly what you’ve done.”
Micah nodded, scrunching his eyes in pain as she tugged him free from the seat.
Stabbing pain filled her chest as she pulled his heavy body from the chair into the tiny space in the back of the plane, which had fortunately stayed more or less intact after the crash. Jael grabbed her pack and pulled out the flashlight. She angled it so she could see what she was doing. She pulled on a pair of gloves and turned back to Micah.
Blood coated his trouser leg from mid-thigh to ankle. Blood was never a good sign and this much sent alarm bells ringing in her head. Working quickly, she split the fabric and groaned quietly. “OK, would you like a description?”
“No,” he managed.
Jael frowned and picked up his wrist. His skin was grey rather than pale, and his pulse was thready. “Not going to pass out on me, are you?”
“I’m trying not to. Please don’t tell me it’s one of those complicated fracture things like Mr. Tomsytt had?” he asked, keeping his gaze on her face.
“No, it isn’t. However you have a long and very deep, jagged cut running from your knee to…”
“Whoa…” he gasped. “TMI, honey…”
“I need to stitch it, but it’s going to hurt.”
“It already hurts. How much worse can it be?”
“A lot. Are you allergic to anything?”
“Crashing planes and complicated fractures.”
“Glad to see you still have your sense of humor. Anything other than that?”
“Heroin.”
Jael did a double take. “Excuse me?”
“I broke, well fractured a bone in my neck several years ago, and that’s what the docs gave me—called it diamorphine or something. I was away with the fairies for days.”
Jael measured a syringe full of pethadine. “Believe me, you’re going to wish you were there again, once I start here.”
His eyes closed as she gave him the shot. Only to jerk open again as she touched his leg. He groaned, before he bit his lip hard. “Sorry…”
“Don’t be,” she said gently. “I know it hurts and I’m being as gentle as I can, but there isn’t time for the meds to work first. Tell me about your neck. How did you fracture it?”
“Playing rugby at school...” his voice tailed off in a shriek of agony.
Jael glanced up from where she was working on him. “Rugby always did strike me as a violent game, but one for real men.”
“American football without the padding, armor, and tea breaks every five minutes is how Dad describes…” He gasped, hands screwing into fists.
“I played cavema
n rugby once. Knocked the pastor to the ground whilst doing it. He wasn’t impressed.” She reached for some more thread. “Halfway there. How are you doing? Have those meds kicked in yet?”
Micah gave her a lopsided smile. “Oh, yeah. Just starting to.” He tilted his head. “Has anyone told you how pretty you are when you’re patching someone up?”
“Not recently.”
“OK. I shan’t then.” He closed his eyes.
Jael finished stitching in silence, then wrapped his leg firmly.
I have no idea how we’re going to get down off this mountain, Lord. Help us. Give us time to get to shelter if nothing else.
He groaned as he opened his eyes. “Are you done? Because we need to get out of here.”
She frowned. “Why? We’re protected here. We can just radio the base and tell them where we are and that we need help and—”
He shook his head. “There won’t be anyone left, remember? And the radio won’t work with the damage to the console. So, I ask again, are you done?”
“Yes.” She shoved as much into her pack as possible. She’d need dressings, meds, water, and she couldn’t ask Micah to carry anything. He was going to have enough problems carrying his own weight. Turning her back on him, she slid into the pack. Pain speared her and she caught her breath. “We need to find you a walking stick.”
“I keep one under the front seat,” he said, pushing himself up to sit. “It belonged to my mother.”
Jael reached under the seat and pulled out a lightweight collapsible stick.
“Undo the band and hold it away from you.”
She did so and grinned as it assembled itself. “Clever.”
“No idea why I kept it,” he said. “Give me a hand up.”
“It’s brilliant. Good job you kept it.” Jael forced the door open, then turned back to Micah. “OK, let’s go.” She helped him to his feet, biting her lip against the surge of pain from her chest.
Micah grimaced as he stood. “We should take the sat phone. It’s under the pilot’s seat.”
“I’ll get it once you’re out of here.” She helped him to the door.
Micah somehow managed to clamber out of the plane and leaned against it. The ash fall was increasing and looked like an intense snow fall.
