They stopped outside the front door to listen; the helicopter seemed to be circling or moving continuously, masking all but the loudest sounds. Hank watched the look of concentration on Ela's face and waited, knowing she had a better chance of separating individual sounds from the noise.
She shook her head as her eyes opened. "It's hard to be sure, double echoes in the canyon or something, but it sounds like machine-gun fire," she stopped talking and cupped her ears.
"The helicopter is landing, I think," she said.
Moments later the sound of a jet engine diminished to a lower pitched whine. Sporadic gunfire could be heard, though it seemed to be winding down. "Yeah, and it sounds like the battle is over. Now we'll see if anybody comes our way," Hank said.
"If it isn't law enforcement and is a private security force it means someone at the dude ranch is rich or important enough to be rescued, or kidnapped—wish I knew last week’s guest list," Ela said. "The more I think about this the more I scare myself. Let's go inside and get ready for whoever decides to drop by."
"Since it was the peak of fall colors when Abe hit, getting a reservation for that week probably took some pull and/or power. Al described the clientele to me as rich liberals associated with the media that loved being pampered while they get back to nature. Maybe it's a news chopper rescuing a big-name newscaster or network executive," Hank said.
"Or kidnapping one. The helicopter is taking off," Ela said. She looked out through the partially opened front door hoping to get a look at it as it flew over.
The noise increased dramatically as the aircraft came over low and slow enough to get a good look at the place. Seconds later the silver-colored helicopter increased speed and altitude, quickly disappearing into the snow and cloud cover.
"That was a Bell 407 and not one based around here. I see most of the local choppers when they land at Grand Junction on days I work at the airport. Those birds are worth a couple million dollars at least, and I'm pretty sure that one was not government or law enforcement," said Hank.
"I hear the snowmobiles again, I sure hope they're friendly, 'cause I think I hear them getting closer."
"They're avoiding us again . . . going back on the highway, I think," Hank said moments later.
Gus came walking up to them and said, "All's quiet in Unaweep Canyon once more. What do you make of that?"
"We were just talking about that. The helicopter is private. My guess is it's probably leased, judging from the paint job. They were certainly curious, coming so low and slow over this place," Hank said.
"From the air they had to see our tracks, smoke from the chimney, maybe even the disabled snowmobile near the trees, so they know someone lives here," Ela said.
"Time to figure this out, just waiting is driving me nuts. I'm thinking of going up to the dude ranch to see who and what is left there," Gus said.
"Agreed, we've got to find out what's happened, and I want to go too. We've got two snowmobiles, we can all go," Ela said.
"I think I ought to stay here and keep an eye on things. Take both machines and cover each other. Do a quick check, and then get back here before dark. Then we can make a plan for tomorrow. Make sense?" Hank said.
Gus looked at Ela, "Can you drive a snowmobile?"
"Can you?"
Gus looked at Ela realizing his mistake, "Dumb question, sorry."
Hank turned and walked into the house hiding a smile. He could tell they were attracted to one another, and he figured Gus had already realized his feelings. Ela though, dealing with Con's death and the survival situation, probably had no idea of her true feelings. He hoped they were allowed enough time to sort things out between them.
Once Ela and Gus were ready Hank walked with them to the shop and helped get the snowmobiles turned and aimed out the open door. With an understanding only gained through many years of people-skills practice, Hank sensed that Ela knew nothing about snowmobiles. He came to her rescue smoothly by taking her arm and walking with her toward his snowmobile.
"Alright, Young Lady, here’re the rules, so you don't go hot-rodding around on my borrowed machine and wreck it." Out of Gus's view Hank gave her a wink. "I find that if you just slowly give a little bit of throttle she will take off smoothly. If you mash the throttle too hard the track will spin, digging a hole for itself, so don't do that. Lean into the turns just like you would on a motorcycle. Here's the brake and there's the key, ready to give it a try?"
"I was born ready," Ela said. She gave Hank a hug and climbed on. Turning to look at Gus sitting on his snowmobile she gave him a slight bow and a wave, indicating she would follow. It was the same gesture she had used to welcome him into the car four nights ago, when he had appeared out of the snowstorm.
Riding the snowmobile proved easy but numbing cold; she could see where it could be fun if she was dressed for the conditions. She kept the taillight of Gus's machine about fifty yards in front her. Following the hard-packed trail they made swift, but bone-chilling progress.
Finally, Gus began slowing and waved at her to pull up beside him. Once there a break in the trees allowed a view of the ranch buildings, or what was left of them in the flaming ruins. Everything was on fire, but nothing moved around the burning buildings.
Ela glanced over at Gus and saw reflections of the fire on his grim looking face, "As much as I would like to warm up by the fire, we should get back. Seen enough?" Ela asked.
"Yeah, it's worse than I thought. Nothing's left but a crime scene down there, let's go."
~~~
Sure that she would end up losing at least a finger to frostbite Ela walked stiffly into the house and straight to the fire. Then she backed off when her cheeks started to burn. She looked at Hank, "I've been flash frozen, but they burned the dude ranch to the ground, smoldering buildings are all that's left."
Hank took her outer layer and hung it to melt and dry in the hallway. Then he went to the kitchen, poured Ela a cup of coffee and took it to her, "See if this helps."
"Hank, you're the best. Thanks." Ela wrapped her stiff fingers around the warm cup and smiled at Hank as much as her stiff cheeks would allow, "That's perfect."
Gus walked in after putting the snowmobiles in the shop. Hank greeted him and went to the kitchen to pour each of them a cup, "Certainly not neighborly folks, burning the place down. Law enforcement wouldn't have done that, so I'm guessing it was a way of covering their tracks, no evidence or witnesses left at the scene of the crime."
Ela came into the kitchen wrapped in a blanket, "Maybe the helicopter flew over us while looking for other potential witnesses close to the ranch?"
Gus responded, "This question comes up a lot lately, do we go or stay?"
"If you plan on going to Grand Junction we need to approach carefully. When I left town the situation was something most people were trying to get away from. If food and fuel still haven't arrived, going there isn't a good option," Hank said.
"Where else can we go if Grand Junction and Gateway are out?" Ela asked.
"We can talk about that, but first are we in agreement that we can't stay here?" Gus asked.
"If I'd just committed murder and arson the fewer people that knew about it, the better I'd feel," said Hank. "Right now, they may be talking about how to tie up all the loose ends, such as coming back here to search this house and outbuildings. I doubt rescuing us is one of the options they're considering. I vote we move on and as soon as possible."
"I agree with Hank, I vote we move, we need to think of a safer place to go," said Ela.
"If we take 141 back toward GJ when we get to the Cactus Park Road, across from it is a private road that goes to Glade Park. I haven't been over it personally, but I did a job, building a horse barn, on the other end of the road. If we can get to Glade Park I've got some friends there who will be helpful, I think. At least they won't shoot at us," said Gus.
"I like that idea. I know an old boy that lives close to Glade Park, on Little Park Road, so we have some alternatives once
we get there. People there ought to know what the conditions are in GJ, with all the overlooks they can see what's happening in the whole valley," Hank said.
"We need to be ready to leave at a minimum of notice. I'm going to the shop to build a sled to carry more supplies, we can pull it behind one of the snowmobiles," Gus said as he got up and left.
Tess & Eric - Delaware Bay, DE
The day broke clear, cold and windy. He could resist no longer, and got up. Looking through the companionway from below, Eric saw Tess wearing some of his waterproof kayaking gear as she stood at the helm. Robin pitched fore and aft while the deck remained steadily tilted, or heeled to port, as Tess would say. He found holding on to something was the only way he could stand, getting his rain gear on was a task in itself.
Managing to get dressed he made his way, handhold to handhold, to the companionway. Before starting up the steps he stopped a moment to watch Tess.
She stood easy, her knees flexing with Robin's gyrations, keeping her body upright and balanced. Without a change in her stoic expression she ducked the oncoming spray blown back from the bow. To Eric, the woman exuded strength of character by the calm consideration he saw in her eyes as she scanned the horizon and then looked up to check the set of the mainsail. Competence personified.
What a lucky break she had turned out to be, not only pulling him out of the wreckage of his house, but also facilitating his escape. She had no inkling of the cause she served by keeping him in the game. Proving once again those who serve blindly serve best.
"Hey, Capt'n!"
Finished trimming the sails for the moment, Tess returned the winch handle to its holder and turned to find Eric stepping into the cockpit. "Sleep well?"
"Just rested with my eyes closed, I'm having a hard time suppressing my excitement. I wondered if you need a break? I can probably keep those green things on the right, and the red ones on the left, like you are. I don't see any ships at the moment."
"Okay, but you need to know more than how to turn the wheel. We are sailing, and the sails need to be adjusted to our course, because we're in a restricting channel. At sea it is the opposite, okay?"
"I think so."
"Come back here and stand beside me. See that needle moving on that instrument?"
"Yes."
"That tells us where the wind is coming from and how hard it's blowing in relation to the moving boat, which is pictured on the face under that needle. If the needle moves toward the stern of the boat then the sails need to be eased or let out, away from the centerline of the boat. If the needle moves toward the bow then the sails need to be trimmed or tightened, by using the winch to bring them closer to the boat. With me?"
"Ye . . . I mean, Aye Capt'n."
"Over here is the compass. Remember the heading the autopilot is holding us on, just in case it needs to be reset. The GPS started working a bit ago. It's slow, but I loaded this navigator with all the nautical charts we need along the East Coast and the Bahamas. Right now we are navigating to a waypoint where we will make a heading change. This screen tells us if we're on course, or if we are being pushed sideways by the wind. Still with me?"
"So far. Do the sails need to be trimmed as much as you trim them?"
"Learn to listen to Robin. She'll let you know what she needs. It will take awhile for you to get a feel for that, meanwhile keep the boat speed up. If the sails flog, the crew gets flogged."
"Threatening to let the cats come out of the bag?" Eric asked with a smile.
"Ah, so you do know something about sailing."
"As a youngster I couldn't read enough adventure stories. Sea stories were my favorite for years. Until the tornado destroyed them, I prized my leather-bound editions of the Bounty Trilogy. I'm eager to back up my academic knowledge of sailing with some practical experience."
"Good, 'cause you have the watch. Don't run into any hard bits of land. And keep an eye on the sails, or suffer the consequences."
Trusting him would only come after she took small leaps of faith. Tess went below, wondering about her next landing.
~~~
Fifteen minutes later she climbed back into the cockpit scanning the horizon for ships, "Since we're still afloat and alive things must be going alright, huh?"
Eric looked at her with a smile, "So far. Every once in a while I feel like we're going to tip over, then I hear the sound of the water and it feels like we're doing 80 instead of 8, it's exhilarating!"
"You hit 8 knots?"
"Seven point six get's rounded up, on my watch."
"You hit 7.6 knots?"
"Almost, but a few times I probably didn't look quickly enough to see the absolute highest speed. That's the point though, with the deck tilting and the water hissing and gurgling by, it feels faster than the numbers sound!"
Tess smiled at his enthusiasm; seeing a few columns of smoke rising from ashore quickly turned her smile to a frown of concern.
"How long before we're out of the Delaware River?" Eric asked, evidently reading the look on her face correctly.
"Late afternoon. There is a Coast Guard base in Cape May, but on the Maryland side is an anchorage called Delaware Bay. There’s nothing but a lighthouse and a breakwater, no facilities, no people, and that's where I plan to anchor tonight. We'll cook up a couple day's worth of food and get a good night's rest, then jump offshore tomorrow morning early. We still have a day or two before we need to make a decision on whether our destination is Virginia or the Bahamas. Okay with you?"
"Aye Capt'n, it's your command."
~~~
Later that evening while anchored in Delaware Bay, with food cooking on both the stern rail-mounted grill and the galley stove, the aromas wafted downwind. Below in the galley, Tess cooked enough soup to fill two large Thermos bottles and made some sandwiches, while Eric grilled meat outdoors.
He had assured her that precooked, cold hamburger patties tasted good. She hoped she had enough condiments aboard to make it possible for her to agree. The important thing to her was that he hadn't uttered even a hint of a complaint, or asked too many questions, plus he pitched in and helped without being told. Maybe the fact that both of them lived alone made them less talkative, an attribute in her opinion, whatever caused it.
She grabbed a couple of cold beers and joined him in the cockpit, "Thirsty?"
"Absolutely. These burgers are done and I'm ready for one with a beer, thanks."
While they enjoyed hot hamburgers in the slightly pitching cockpit she pondered the upcoming voyage. This would be the last civilized meal until they reached their destination and were able to anchor again. Until then dog bowls would be preferable to plates, if eating the food rather than wiping up spills was the actual goal.
"Abe’s destruction didn’t reach the heavens, just look at those stars," she said upon finishing her burger.
"It seems Abe concentrated his energies on the U.S. Ultimately it may be a good thing, but the immediate aftermath is going to be an unpleasant time."
"How are you feeling about being on a sailboat?"
"Tess, so far I love it. Intellectually I know today has been idyllic compared to what our oceans can dish up, but I didn't feel anything unpleasant today when conditions were at their worst. I'm optimistic that we'll be eating conch chowder in Nassau in no time."
"Jumping offshore in a small boat is not taken lightly by anyone that has done it before. Taking a man with no sailing experience, that I hardly know, on an offshore passage, puts me in the running for the Darwin Award. Though your performance today gives me some confidence, since it was turbulent enough to make anyone susceptible to seasickness, queasy at the least."
"Could go the other way, and generations that come after you will admire your daring success at escaping Abe’s mayhem. And for choosing to take me along of course," Eric said smiling. "The other news is it looks like our attitudes have gone from 'not liking' to 'not knowing' one another. Which is a good thing; it means we haven't yet heard all of each other's jokes and
stories."
Tess raised her beer in a toast, "True that! Leaving the East Coast on the tail of a cold front is a time-honored tradition for vessels dependent on the winds for power. This one will get us offshore and well south over the next couple of days. We have enough fuel aboard to maybe get us a third of the way, so motoring should only be considered as a last resort; we can't start the engine every time the winds die down. We are at the whims of nature, and it will take however long it takes to get there. So, no schedule once we jump offshore tomorrow. Okay?"
"Tess, you've given me ample warnings, I'll sign all the usual disclaimers and hold you harmless. I want to do this and I know it might end in disaster, but that's a chance I’ll take. In my mind, the dangers of staying here are higher than those we may face on this ocean voyage, besides this change in lifestyle provides a stimulus I didn't realize I needed. Isn't it time for the Captain to announce to the crew that we sail with the turn of the morning's tide, or something?"
Andy, Jennifer, Tye & Reb - East Texas
At midday Jennifer and Andy took the Jeep on a drive around the pasture, ostensibly to check the cattle, though most of the others recognized it as their not-so-clever ploy to be alone together.
"What's the main thing I'm checking these cows for, exactly?" Andy asked, as he leaned toward Jennifer.
"Health, pasture conditions, and generally watching for anything that doesn't look right."
"That mark on your face, as sexy as it is, is my fault. I should have gone and gotten my own stick while you watched."
"Sexy, huh? I didn't see it that way when I looked."
"It enhances your air of mystery and warns all others that you've faced the dragon and survived. Men will find you more irresistible than ever, until it fades away in a couple of weeks."
"So far it's only enhanced the amount of teasing I'm getting."
"It's mostly the way your family and friends are trying to reassure you and relieve their own fears. We're all very glad you're not seriously injured, the mark shows how close you came."
SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel Page 32
