by Andrew Kole
Spencer finished up his preflight checklist, and started the engines. But before he could taxi down the runway he spotted his father’s black Ranger Rover racing across the tarmac toward the plane.
There was no way Spencer was going to let his father stop him now! Spencer accelerated down the runway and prepared to take off.
A voice came over the radio. “This is Aspen tower. You have not been cleared for take-off.... Do you read?... You have not been cleared for take-off.” Spencer flipped the radio off.
“We’re doing this? We’re really doing this!” Taylor said, excited and scared to death at the same time.
“Yep,” Spencer said, as he pulled back on the stick.
Taylor white-knuckled it as Spencer lifted the plane into the air, and out toward the snow-capped mountains.
Twenty minutes later Taylor was actually enjoying the ride as the plane headed southwest towards Las Vegas. She gazed raptly out the window at the beautiful scenery. The late afternoon sun turned the tall, snow-covered peaks a fiery red. Spencer couldn’t help but notice the grin on Taylor’s face.
“You want to fly it?” he asked.
“The plane?” she asked, unsure if she even wanted to know the answer,
“Yeah.“ Spencer said. “No way.”
“Come on. It’s easy,” Spencer said, then smiled.
Taylor tentatively reached out and put her hands on the control yoke. Spencer let go of his stick. “I’m flying?” Taylor asked.
“You are... Pretty cool, huh?” “Very cool.”
“Check this out,” Spencer said.
Spencer grabbed his side of the controls again. He twisted the yoke so the wings waggled back and forth causing Taylor to laughed.
“I see why you like flying,” Taylor said.
“There’s nothing like it,“ Spencer responded with a big smile on his face.
“How long have you had your pilot’s license?”
“Well, uh, technically...” Spencer searched for the right words.
“You don’t have your license?!?” she gasped.
“I’m only a few hours of flying time away,” he said. “And three months.”
“What does that mean?” Taylor asked.
“You have to be seventeen to fly alone,” Spencer admitted. “I’m still sixteen.”
“Don’t you think you should have mentioned that before I put my life and my dog’s life in your hands?!”
“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s going to be smooth sailing all the way to Las Vegas,” Spencer said, smiling confidently.
The words were barely out of his mouth before a loud boom of thunder rumbled in the distance. “You jinxed us!” accused Taylor. “I did not!” said Spencer automatically. But then he started to wonder. Dark clouds quickly gathered in front of them. The wind picked up and the plane began to bounce in the turbulent air. More thunder rumbled. Closer this time. And there was the lightning –
bright, sizzling bolts in the rapidly darkening sky.
“We should turn around right now. We can save the shelter another way,” said Taylor nervously.
“I can’t let my father win! All he cares about is money,” insisted Spencer, desperate to succeed.
“It’s not worth dying just to make a point,” implored Taylor.
Spencer knew she was right. He was about to turn the plane around when he took a good look at the radar. “I’m not sure we can turn around.” The storm cell that was building around them looked really bad in front of them, but was way worse behind them.
“Didn’t you check the weather report before you came up with this stupid plan?” Taylor asked.
“No!” snapped Spencer. “I had other things on my mind.” “Well, it can change really fast in the mountains,” Taylor said. “Duh...” Spencer said, just as they hit an air pocket.
The plane bounced frighteningly. Spencer gripped the controls even tighter. He then looked at Taylor.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Apology accepted.“ The plane bounced again. Can you fly over this?” Taylor asked.
Spencer shook his head. “I don’t think so.” “Do you have any good news?” Taylor asked.
Spencer searched the sky. “There’s a small break in the clouds over there,” Spencer said. “Maybe we can get around this storm after all.”
In the back of the plane, the dogs bounced violently around in their crates. “We’re all going to die!” Winnie lamented. She’d have been in tears if dogs could cry.
“I’m too young and too pretty to die!” moaned Piper.
“Those ribs aren’t sitting so well,” Aldo said, looking green.
“This is not how I wanted to go out,” said Sandor. “I thought I’d at least get to see green fields and sheep one more time before I went.”
“I hate flying,” Duke grumbled.
“We never should have listened to that stupid kid,” Major admonished.
“Don’t worry! I have faith in Spencer,” Lady Maya responded.
“I’m sorry to say, Lady Maya, but this was a bad idea,” Bohdi said emphatically, ending the conversation.
Cole Shuttleworth anxiously questioned the air traffic controller at the Aspen airport. “Why can’t you raise him by radio?”
“Because they shut the radio down as they were taking off.” “They?” Shuttleworth asked.
“One of the employees saw Taylor Hopton get on the plane with your son,” answered the controller.
Before Shuttleworth could process that bit of news, the radio belted out a burst of static and then Spencer’s voice. “Aspen
Tower, come in. This is Champion one-seven. We are in distress. I repeat, we are in distress. Do you read?”
The air traffic controller was about to answer when Shuttleworth ripped the radio out of her hand. “Spencer? Spencer, is that you? Are you okay?”
Spencer was surprised to hear the fear and concern in his father’s voice. It confused him. He wasn’t used to thinking of his father as someone who got scared. “Dad, the weather is really bad up here.”
Shuttleworth could tell that Spencer was trying to hold it together, but he was afraid. Shuttleworth buried his own worry and tried to reassure his son. “Spencer, you have this. You know that plane. You can get it down safely.”
Before Spencer could say another word, a flash and incredibly loud bang startled him and Taylor as the plane was struck by a zig-zagging bolt of lightning. The instruments flickered and the radio went silent followed by an eerie hiss of static. The radio antenna was hit. Fried by the incredible heat generated by the electrical strike. Spencer stared at the radio in his hand. Seconds before, it had been their lifeline. Now there was only static.
Taylor and Spencer looked at each other. “What now?”
“My dad’s right. I can do this. I have to do this,” Spencer said as he started checking all his instruments and gauges again when another blue-white bolt of lightning slammed into the right engine! “How can I help? Tell me what to do,” Taylor asked, trying to stay
calm for Spencer’s sake.
“Let me think,” Spencer said, staying focused.
Suddenly, smoke and flames spewed out of the damaged left engine while, in the cockpit, warning lights flashed and alarms sounded. Spencer and Taylor stared out the window at the flaming engine in horror.
Taylor came out of it first, then looke
d at Spencer, who was frozen with terror. She grabbed his shoulder, and shook him wildly. “Spencer! Spencer! Do something!”
Hearing Taylor’s voice snapped Spencer out of his panic. “Right,” he said to her, as well as himself as he scraped through his memory. “Engine one is out. Adjust flaps. Increase power. Don’t stall… Please… don’t stall,” Spencer muttered to himself.
Spencer’s quick response paid off and the plane leveled out. Some of the warning lights turned off. Spencer seemed to have actually gotten things under control.
Taylor looked ahead of them. The thick clouds had cleared just enough to see... a huge, snow-covered mountain peak right ahead! “Look out!” she screamed.
Spencer’s face went white when he saw that peak right in front of them. He yanked back on the stick. But, with only one engine, they couldn’t gain altitude. He turned the plane hard, but it wasn’t enough. “Hold on! We’re going down!” Spencer proclaimed.
The bottom of the plane scraped along the rocks, sparks flying. From the rear of the plane came the sound of the dogs barking in terror. But Taylor and Spencer knew there was nothing they could do to comfort the dogs right now. They had to focus on the task at hand – surviving. The warning lights flashed and buzzers sounded as the plane crash-landed on the top of a snowy mountain.
Chapter 9
The Mountain
The plane hit the ground with a thud, bounced a few times and plowed into a dense stand of trees. Both wings snapped off, leaving only the bobsled-like fuselage sliding out of control over the snowy ground. All the damage from the crash weakened the fuselage until the plane snapped in two. The force sent the two halves of the plane in opposite directions.
The Westminster dogs and Bohdi howled as their half of the plane careened down the mountain, bouncing over rocks and pin-balling off trees. All the cabinets flew open. Water and food bowls, toys and leashes flew out. Even a few bags of dog food popped out, raining kibble all over the frightened dogs.
Inside the cockpit, Taylor and Spencer screamed as their part of the plane rocketed straight toward a cliff! But before it went over the several hundred-foot drop, the front half of the plane slammed into another strand of trees and jerked to a halt. Both Spencer and Taylor’s eyes were wide open, the size of saucers. They breathed for a minute until the feeling started to rush back into their limbs.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, his voice shaky. “I think so,” Taylor said. And then panicked.
“Bohdi?!” She unbuckled her seatbelt, staggered out of her seat, and wobbled her way to the door to the cargo area.
“You need to sit down,” said Spencer, but Taylor was in full rescue mode.
Taylor flung the door open. But on the other side, where there used to be a cargo area full of dogs, she saw only the snow-covered mountain. The dogs, and the rest of the plane, were nowhere to be seen.
The fuselage, with the Westminster dogs and Bohdi in their crates, slid down the other side of the mountain. It slowed down when it hit the spring grass and finally came to rest on the bank of a mountain river, which was swollen with spring runoff.
Locked in their kennels, the dogs were shaken up, a bit bruised, but basically unhurt. The only thing they could hear was the rain as it pattered on the fuselage, dripping past the gaping hole.
The once perfectly groomed Westminster dogs looked very much the worse for wear. The barbecue sauce had dried in their fur, making it stick up in strange spikes. Their eyes were wide and their tongues hung out as they panted, completely terrified.
“We’re alive! We’re alive!” Sandor said, relieved and surprised.
As this truth hit them, the dogs breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“The airline is getting a scathing Yelp review from this pooch,” Duke said.
Piper looked around. They were alive, but there was a problem. She reluctantly pointed this new emergency out to the others. “We’re stuck. There are no humans to let us out of our crates!”
“Help! Help! Humans! Humans!” Winnie cried out.
“No one’s going to hear us,” said Bohdi. “We’re going to have to get ourselves out.”
“Easy to say, mutt… But since you don’t have opposable thumbs, not so easy to do,” Major said with authority.
“I know you’re used to living with a pack of humans waiting on you, but I’ve had to survive on my own. Let’s just say I have a knack for getting in and out of places I’m not supposed to be,” said Bohdi with a roguish smile.
“Can you really open the crate?” asked Lady Maya hopefully.
Bohdi assessed the wire crate. He stuck one paw through an opening, flicked the latch up, rattled the crate so that the pin wiggled loose and... the door popped open!
“You’re amazing!” Lady Maya said, admiring her new friend.
“Let me out! Let me out now! My turn! My turn!” cried all the dogs at once, except Major, who was too proud for his own good; too proud to admit he needed help from the likes of Bohdi.
Bohdi hustled from crate to crate, opening each one, letting the Westminster dogs out into what was left of their half of the plane. “I’m free,” Winnie said, as she flopped over, and rolled around
on the metal floor.
Aldo made a bee-line over to the dog food scattered on the floor and chowed down. “Being terrified makes me very hungry,” Aldo said.
“It seems like just about everything makes you hungry, old chap,” said Duke.
Aldo thought about that for a second. “Fair enough.”
“You should all probably have a snack,” said Bohdi. “You might not feel hungry right now, but who knows when we’ll get more food. Eat what you can, when you can. That’s how I’ve survived on my own. Taking opportunities when they came along.”
The Westminster dogs saw the wisdom in those words, so as Bohdi let them out of their crates, they joined Aldo in his snack.
At last, only Major was left in his crate. Bohdi started to go to help him, but Major stopped him. “I don’t need help from a mutt. I can get myself out.”
“If you say so,” said Bohdi.
“I am perfectly capable of doing anything you can do,” sniffed Major haughtily.
Bohdi joined the other dogs eating, but he kept an eye on Major who tried to imitate what Bohdi had done, but he just didn’t have the knack for it. Over and over again, Major failed to get the latch to budge. Finally, he gave up, and just laid down in his crate.
Bohdi called to him, “Having a little trouble, Major?”
“No. I like it in here. It reminds me of my early crate training when I was a pup,” lied Major. He was desperate to get out of the crate, but he was much too proud to admit that he needed help.
“All you have to do is ask,” Bohdi said.
“Mind your own business, mutt.”
Bohdi didn’t particularly like Major, and was tempted to just leave him there. But he figured Major might be an asset before all this was over. So, with a flick of his nose, Bohdi popped the latch and the crate door swung open. “In case you change your mind,” Bohdi said and walked away.
Major glared after him. He didn’t like being shown up by the little mutt. And he liked the feeling of owing someone even less.
Spencer waved his cell phone around in the air, desperately searching for a signal.
“Anything?” Taylor asked.
“Nothing,” replied Spencer as he whirled in place.
Taylor crawled around on the floor looking for her phone. “What are you looking for?” Spencer asked.
“My phone... there it is.” Taylor picked it up and looked at the shattered screen.
“It is working?” he asked.
“No. It’s completely destroyed.” “Is it an iPhone?” asked Spencer.
“No. I can’t afford an iPhone... Why did you ask me that?”
“I was thinking it would give us an extra battery,” replied Spencer.
“That was good thinking, but the only phone we have is yours,” Taylor said.
“We have to call for help!” Spencer insisted. “I know that!” Taylor snapped.
“Why are you getting mad at me?... I mean except for crashing and everything.”
Taylor took a deep breath, calming herself. Getting angry at Spencer wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Let’s look at the radio again. Maybe we can get it to work.”
Back in the tower at the Aspen airport, there was no sign of the plane on the radar. The air traffic controller was working up to telling Shuttleworth that the plane had almost certainly crashed when Amos and Indy rushed in. “Where’s Taylor?” Amos asked with concern in his voice. “I heard she got on Shuttleworth’s plane. Why would she do that?”
The air traffic controller told Amos that Taylor was on the plane with Shuttleworth’s son, Spencer. He then told Amos about the plane getting caught in the sudden storm, and that they had lost contact just seconds before the plane went down. An incensed Amos whirled on Shuttleworth. “This is all your fault! Because of your stupid son,” Amos fumed. He couldn’t bear the idea of losing Taylor, too. The last of his family. No. He wouldn’t. He would get Taylor back. He had to.
“My stupid son! Your granddaughter clearly talked him into this insane idea!” sputtered Shuttleworth. But Amos ignored him, already on to the next problem.
He turned to the air traffic controller. “Did you call Manny?”
A deep voice answered from behind them. “He did.” Amos and Shuttleworth turned to see Manny Perez, a good-looking, rugged man in his late thirties, who was hired to run Aspen Search and Rescue after the avalanche killed Marcy. A former Air Force pilot with over twenty rescues to his credit when he worked in Alaska, Perez was an excellent head of Search and Rescue, and had nerves of steel. Manny introduced himself to Shuttleworth and assured him that he would personally lead thesearch. Manny asked the controller to give him the last known coordinates of the plane. He did a little math and worked out the approximate search area. It was big. Really big. And it wasn’t likely that a good Samaritan would casually find them. No. When the plane went missing, it was over the Uncompahgre National Forest, almost 1,500 square miles of untamed wilderness and peaks that soared to over fourteen thousand feet. Even by Colorado standards, they were lost in the middle of nowhere. A very dangerous middle of nowhere.
